Growing Up Weasley
by Ordinary Princess
Summary: Being the only girl in a family with six older brothers can't be easy. But when you're Ginny Weasley, the real trouble starts when you fall in love.
1. Protectors of Virtue

Author's Notes: Welcome to Ginny's life, as I see it. Or choose to see it.   
  
Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and situations come from the Harry Potter books, written by JK Rowling, and published by Scholastic, Bloomsbury, etc. No remuneration is being received for this work, and no copyright infringement is intended. I swear.  
  
Growing Up Weasley  
  
Chapter 1. Protectors of Virtue  
  
  
Ginny Weasley was fifteen years old. "I'm fifteen!" she shouted. She didn't need her big brothers to "protect" her anymore. "Charlie Weasley, you put me down!" Nothing. "I'll tell Mum!" Still no response. Slung over Charlie's shoulder as she was, there was little she could legally do to make her six brothers listen to her - legally. Narrowing her eyes at the twins, who were following Charlie with rather serious looks on their usually conniving faces, she pulled her wand out of her sleeve and pointed it at them. "I'm going to hex you with every curse I know if you don't stop this nonsense right now!" she shrieked.  
  
That got their attention.  
  
Charlie put her down, but he kept a hand firmly on her arm. "If you do that, you'll be expelled from Hogwarts, Gin. Mum and Dad won't look kindly on that. You being their only daughter and all."  
  
Back on solid ground, Ginny was much more in command of herself. Coolly, she shrugged. "So what? Hagrid was expelled, and he seems to be doing just fine. Anyway, I could transfer to Beauxbatons."  
  
At this, Ron laughed - rather harshly. "Right. As though we'd let you go to that school all by yourself."  
  
Ginny looked around at her six brothers: Bill, who had a bit of a grin on his face. So much older than Ginny, he'd always a bit of a mystery to her - and a little bit of a hero. He'd come home for a week before transferring to his new Gringott's post in Rome. Just in time to join the rest of her personal secret service in protecting her maidenly virtue.   
  
And Charlie, the resident hunk. All the girls at school said so. Charlie was an outdoorsman of the first water, manhandling dragons and other beasts out in the wilds of Romania and the rest of the Continent. He was compact and brawny, and reminded Ginny of nothing so much as the American folk hero Paul Bunyan - only shorter. He annoyed Ginny the way Ron did, always thinking she was too fragile to do things like play professional Quidditch (which dream she shared with Ron) - though not too fragile, apparently, to be slung over his shoulder like a sack of feed.  
  
Then there was Percy. Sir Percy the Pretentious, was how Ginny always thought of him. He was frowning at her with disapproval, probably for threatening to perform underage magic. Her owl from the Ministry would probably reflect poorly on Percy, who was working his way up the ladder at the Ministry of Magic and resented the fact that his family didn't seem to take his work as seriously as he did.  
  
Ginny usually got on best with Fred and George. She appreciated the twisted way in which their minds worked, and their legendary status at Hogwarts. They never (well, rarely) treated her as something special just because she was a girl. And they let her help with their secret experiments. But that equality apparently counted for nothing when Virginia Weasley's well-protected purity was at stake. She glared at them with the full strength of her fury, and was pleased to see them fidget a bit.   
  
And Ron. Ron! This was all his fault, Ginny was sure. Being the sixth Weasley brother meant Ron was always trying to prove himself at something. Usually it was at protecting the honor of the Weasley name (mostly by fighting Draco Malfoy and anyone else who mentioned the state of the family vault at Gringott's, and by joining Harry Potter in his many death-defying adventures) and protecting the symbol of Weasley virtue - i.e. Ginny. She was sure that this most recent ambush had something to do with the two owls she'd sent out the previous week.  
  
"Well, what is it this time, brothers dear?" she asked with a twist of sarcasm on her pixie-ish face. "Are my robes too short? Perhaps I should wear a veil? Or have I been so unladylike," she sneered, "as to speak out of turn? What is it?"  
  
"Did you or did you not invite both Neville Longbottom and Colin Creevey to the Burrow for the last two weeks of summer?" Percy intoned in what Ginny was sure he thought was an intimidating voice.   
  
She just rolled her eyes.  
  
"Answer the question, Gin," Bill urged smoothly. She glared daggers.  
  
As much as she might have wanted to turn on her heel and walk away from her six idiot brothers, Ginny knew she was trapped here until they were satisfied that her virtue was still intact. Sometimes she wondered if her brothers had been magically transported through time and space from King Arthur's court. Chivalry was certainly not dead in the Weasley family, but it had been badly warped - at least in Ginny's opinion. Knights in shining armor protecting a lady's virtue from the evil overlords of legend were one thing. Brothers in shining ego pretending to protect what did not need protecting was something else altogether.   
  
Ginny had always been able to empathize with strong (and usually bad) women of myth and legend. Who wanted a perfectly upright and ever-chivalrous and overprotective Arthur when dangerous Lancelot could take you on the adventure of a lifetime? Given the choice between Snow White and Maid Marion, Ginny always chose Maid Marion. She knew what it was, after all, to be sheltered by half a dozen little men. And now, as she looked around at her "protectors," she tilted her chin up and crossed her arms. "Well, what if I did?" She raised her eyebrows delicately. "Ron might bring his friends home for weeks and months at a time - his girlfriend, even! - but I'm not permitted to have company of my own? How is that fair?"  
  
"Harry and Hermione are different, Gin."  
  
"How's that, Ron?" she shot back.   
  
"Colin and Neville are - boys."  
  
She practically snorted her disgust.   
  
"And you're a girl," he continued, as if that explained everything.  
  
"So's Hermione. And she's your girlfriend." At this, Charlie and the twins grinned. Ginny bit her lip. "Well...almost." She was pleased to see that her big brother's ears were turning bright red. While Ron sputtered, she turned to the rest of her brothers. "And for your information, no. I didn't invite Neville and Colin home. Well, to be honest, I did." At their six identical looks of absolute horror, she continued, "Of course I did! You know how awful it is for Neville at home, always reminded of his parents. And it's no better for him at Hogwarts, with Snape always scaring him. But he owled me back and said his gran was taking him to Norway."  
  
The twins snickered, and Ginny allowed a small grin of her own. "Anyway, Colin wrote back and asked if Harry was going to be here, and -"  
  
"Yes, and that's another difficulty, Ginny," Percy interrupted in his best Head Boy voice. "Did you give a thought to Harry's privacy?"  
  
"Be quiet, Percy," she snapped, and all the boys took a small step back. There were times when Ginny had that don't-cross-me tone that their mother had perfected long ago. "I can think, you know. Just because you six never want to give me the chance doesn't mean I can't do it. Colin is my friend, but I didn't think anyone would enjoy two weeks of, 'All right, Harry?' Especially not Harry. So I told him Harry was going to the South Seas, and he wrote back saying his parents wanted him to stay home and help his little sister get ready for Hogwarts." She shrugged. "I don't know if that's true, or if he only wanted to come to see Harry, but I thought it worked out for the best for everyone."  
  
She shrugged. "So you see, gentlemen, your ambush was for nothing. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go tell Mum Colin's not coming." She shouldered past them, and no one held her back.  
  
On her way back to the house, she shook her head at her brothers. She really, really hoped they'd outgrow this white knight stage soon.  
  
Slamming the kitchen door, she called, "Mum! Where are you?"  
  
Molly Weasley appeared a moment later, struggling out of the pantry with jams and jars and mixes and cakes and a tower of other indistinguishable ingredients that would go into the welcome meal for Harry and Hermione tonight. "Did you call me, Ginny, dear?" she asked from behind the dry goods.  
  
Ginny reached to relieve her mother of about half of her load, when she realized that it was all being moved magically through the air. "Just wanted to tell you, that owl that came for me this morning was Colin's. He can't come. His sister's starting Hogwarts this year, and he has to stay home with her."  
  
Molly nodded. "Yes, of course. That would be Magnolia Creevey, wouldn't it? Young Maggie, the last of the Creevey children. Poor thing. Such a name! Her mother named her after watching some American muggle film. Well, Elaine always was a bit of a romantic." She winked at her daughter. "What? You thought I never stuck my head out of this house? I'm more aware than you think, my fair young daughter. Now, will you help me fix dinner? Ron says Harry's coming by Knight bus, so he could be here any moment. And Hermione will be here after six. Her parents are very precise when it comes to time. I think it's a muggle trait. Hand me the recipe book, won't you?"  
  
Ginny passed her mother the old, well-worn book and watched as it opened to the page of Harry's favorite meal (though, truth be told, every meal seemed to be Harry's favorite) and began commanding the ingredients while Molly watched. Deciding that her mother was better-informed than she was, Ginny wandered out of the kitchen and decided she wanted to be like her mother one day. 


	2. The Invasion

Author's Notes:  
  
Disclaimer: Same as before. In fact, I'm not going to write it anymore. Let this suffice for the whole story: All recognizable characters and situations are borrowed from the Harry Potter books and belong to JK Rowling, Scholastic Press, Bloomsbury, various other publishers, and Warner Brothers. No remuneration is being received for this work, and no copyright infringement is intended. There. Did I get everything? Good. On with the show.  
  
Growing Up Weasley  
  
Chapter 2. The Invasion  
  
  
  
Upstairs in her small, strangely angled room, Ginny sat on the end of her bed. Well, threw herself on the end of her bed was probably more correct. Sometimes...sometimes, she hated being a Weasley. The other girls in her class thought she had it made, having six great, handsome, successful big brothers. Ginny rolled her eyes. Right. Like she ever thought of them like that. Ew! The idea was enough to turn her stomach. Her brothers, successful? She supposed...yes, it was possible. Handsome? Please! Irritating was more like. Great? In what way? Great big oafs? That was true. But great as in wonderful, entertaining, the kind of older brothers who took their baby sister out to new and exotic places and let her stretch her wings a bit? Not on your life. It wasn't fair. And now, for yet another summer, everyone else was going to have someplace to go and someone to go there with, except her.   
  
Bill and Charlie were only home for a few days - just enough time to protect her virtue from unseen foes, she supposed. Percy was too full of himself and his Very Important Work on cauldron bottoms and wand widths and whatever other busywork the Ministry could think up to keep him occupied. The twins...well, they were awfully secretive about their new inventions. And besides, they were going to London in the morning to meet with their realtor in Diagon Alley. Weasley Wizard Wheezes was on its way. That just left Ron and Harry and Hermione. Hermione was always nice and always invited Ginny to join them, but the younger girl always felt like a bit of a hanger-on. And everyone knowing about her childhood crush on Harry didn't make things any easier.  
  
Nope, it looked like two more long boring weeks on her own.   
  
She sighed again and wished that the students in her year were even half as interesting as Ron's friends. She was sure she could handle any adventure at least as well as Ron did, if not better. Why was it, then, that all the exciting things happened to Ron?  
  
Before she could dwell further on her petulant thoughts, Ginny heard a great racket outside, and then shouts. Her mother, saying something about the garden, Ron and Fred and George hailing - Harry. Must be the Knight bus, she thought. "Let the good times roll," she muttered, standing and straightening her clothes.   
  
She stepped lightly down the stairs and went out into the surprisingly bright British sun. Standing on the front stoop, she shaded her eyes with her hand and squinted in Harry's direction. She rolled her eyes as she felt her heart flutter in remembrance of old feelings. Taking a deep breath she stepped off the porch and went to greet her brother's friend. "Hi, Harry," she said with a smile.   
  
For a second it seemed like he wasn't going to say anything. The way he just stood there, ignoring Ron's questions and the twins' offers of doctored pumpkin juice and a dozen other pranks, Ginny felt a bit self-conscious. Did she have something gross hanging from her nose? Was her hair sticking up? Then, thankfully, he shook it off. "Hey, Gin. Long time, no see." He sort of half-grinned, before looking away and helping her brothers with his trunk.   
  
Ginny shook her head and went back inside. Boys. Nonetheless, she stopped and checked her appearance in the mirror in the front hall.  
  
"You could use some sun, dearie."  
  
Lord, how Ginny hated enchanted mirrors. If she wanted an evaluation, she'd ask for one. She grimaced at the mirror, which in turn made a rude noise at her, and stomped away. If this was a preview of how the rest of her summer was going to be, she'd stay up in her room, thank you very much.  
  
Halfway up the stairs, though, she heard her mother calling. "Ginny! Come down here, please. I need your help." So she turned around and went back down, through the living room and into the kitchen.  
  
In the front room, Harry was already the center of everyone's attention. He appeared to be telling Ron and the twins about his summer with the Muggles. Ginny stopped and listened for a moment. "She makes Pansy Parkinson look like Miss Universe," he said, bloating his cheeks and holding his arms out to signify the size of this mysterious she. "And my aunt and uncle thought she was wonderful. 'Our Dudley's first girlfriend.'" He snorted. "They're probably just relieved that some girl will have him, great foul whale that he is." Ginny grinned. From what she'd heard, Harry's cousin was just as Harry had described him: a great foul whale. She must have giggled at his impersonation, though, because suddenly he looked up, and right at her. "Oh. Er...hi, Ginny. How's your summer been?"  
  
Ginny raised her eyebrows in patent disbelief. The Great Harry Potter, nervous? Because he sounded nervous. Like she was Fleur Delacour instead of Ron's kid sister. Still, it was a bit of a heady feeling, being able to make Harry sound a little nervous. Better than her turning red and running away every time she saw him.  
  
Nothing like the memory of past childish behavior to bring a girl's soaring ego back to earth, Ginny thought to herself with a bit of annoyance. Still, Harry was still looking at her. And her brothers seemed not to know where to look, as their glances shot back and forth between their precious baby sister and the Boy Who Lived. She bit her lip. "Well, you know," she said airily, as if her brothers weren't in the room, "it's been brilliant, except for Ron's constant pining for Hermione. And Fred and George's pathetic excuses for pranks - you didn't take any of their pumpkin juice, did you Harry?" she asked innocently, ignoring the building mortification in her brothers' faces. A bright smile and then, "Excuse me. I have to go help Mum with dinner. Ron, aren't you meant to set the tables?" Before they could say anything, she disappeared through the door into the kitchen.  
  
Pleased to have paid at least three of her brothers back for their earlier ambush, Ginny happily helped her mother with the evening meal until Hermione appeared in the fireplace. Then her mother sent her out to help Hermione with her trunks. She wiped her hands on a kitchen towel and headed back to the living room, which was unusually quiet since Hermione's loud, "Hello, everyone!"  
  
Now Ginny understood why. Hermione had changed. Ginny grinned at the dumbstruck look on Ron's face, and almost laughed out loud when she saw it mirrored by Fred and George. Even Bill and Charlie, who had come in from the garden where they'd been helping their father put the garden back to rights after the Kinght bus destruction, seemed a bit...out of sorts...at Hermione's glowing appearance as she stepped from the green flames and into the room.   
  
She hadn't changed a lot, but she'd changed enough. Hermione was just coming back from spending a month on the French Riviera with her cousins, and she had that certain sun-kissed, fresh-air-and-salt-sea clean, footloose and fancy free, just back from exotic locale aura to her. Good British girls just didn't look like that, Ginny mused with only the slightest hint of envy. Hermione's bushy hair was streaked from the sun (and good British girls never even saw enough sun to streak their hair) and pulled back in a jaunty ponytail. She was wearing muggle clothes (since her whole family was muggle, that was no surprise) - but not the usual Hermione clothes. Ginny could tell that Hermione'd chosen that tiny sundress because it showed off her tanned and toned legs the best. Ginny figured her brothers would kill her if she ever tried to wear something like that, even though they were all practically drooling over Hermione in it. Ginny thought she detected a touch of makeup on Hermione's eyes and wondered if maybe Hermione would let her borrow it this summer. Just to try it out.   
  
Well, she thought with a touch of amusement, if the boys weren't going to say anything... "Hi, Hermione. How was your summer?" She crossed the room and gave the older girl a welcoming hug. "Mum said you're staying in my room again. I hope you don't mind." At that, she shot a rather obvious look at Ron and tried not to smile as Hermione turned a soft shade of pink under her newly acquired tan. Behind her, Harry coughed to cover a laugh, and Ginny threw him a wink. "Mum's almost finished cooking, so we can take your trunk upstairs, and you can unpack if you want."  
  
Hermione nodded. "Okay." The two girls bent to lift Hermione's book-filled trunk.  
  
In an instant, Ron and Harry shot up from their seats. "We'll get that for you, 'Mione," Ron said, while Harry was offering, "Here, Gin, let me," and taking her side of the trunk. Ginny took a step back , wondering at this unexpected chivalrous action by Harry. Not that his helping Hermione with her overloaded trunk was so unusual, but Ginny hadn't missed the fact that he'd only offered to help her, not Hermione, and not even for Hermione. This was new, and Ginny decided she'd think more about it later.  
  
She and Hermione followed the boys upstairs and spent a few minutes getting them to leave. Ron kept asking if he could help unpack, or get Hermione something to drink. Harry just sort of looked around, as if memorizing the room. Hermione finally told them she was tired and wanted to take a quick nap, and she'd see them at dinner. Harry, at least, got the hint and dragged his besotted friend out of the room.  
  
Hermione kicked off her brightly colored sandals and flopped down on the second bed in Ginny's room, replicated for guests. She smiled at Ginny and sighed happily. "Ginny, I had such a spendid time at the Riviera! You should have been there. I'm sure we would have made the boys drool!" She giggled, very un-Hermione-like, and stretched out. Then she rolled over on her stomach and peered at her red-headed hostess. "But it looks like you've managed a bit of a conquest here on your own, haven't you?" When Ginny didn't say anything, Hermione laughed (when, Ginny wondered, had Hermione ever been so full of...joie de vivre?). "It's okay, Gin. You needn't try to hide it from me. I saw how Harry was practically tripping over himself to help you. And he's been staring at you since I got here." She looked the younger girl over. "I can see why, though. And I think it's about time Harry was interested in someone besides Cho Chang. She's horrid."  
  
Ginny laughed. If this free-speaking girl was the new Hermione, Ginny thought she could be a fun roommate for the next two weeks. Except, "Cho is not horrid, Hermione. You just don't like her because she chose Cedric Diggory over Harry. And that was two years ago." Hermione shrugged. Ginny just rolled her eyes. "And I don't know what you mean about my conquests. Just this afternoon all six of those idiots I have the good fortune to call brothers dragged me out to the woods and demanded to know if I had been so audacious as to invite friends of my own to the Burrow this summer." Hermione's eyes widened. And not, Ginny noted, wholly in Ginny's favor. "I know, I know. Horrible thought. But it's a little unfair, don't you think, that Ron's friends are welcome while mine are not?"  
  
"Oh, I don't think they really meant that, Ginny," Hermione defended. "They just - that is, well..." She shook her head. "Fine. I cannot imagine why Ron feels it necessary to keep you under lock and key. I wonder what he'll think, now it's Harry he has to fend off."  
  
Now that was something Ginny had never though about. Of course, she never expected Harry to show her one ounce of interest that wasn't purely brotherly...but he had been a bit strange around her today...  
  
Time for confidences.  
  
"Hermione, do you really think...?" She couldn't finish the sentence. Deep breath, then try again. Ginny gulped. "Well, Harry. Do you think he, y'know, likes me?" It had been a bit of a daydream, Ginny thought, but she had a realistic streak in her and had given up on that particular daydream two years ago. Harry had always acted like a seventh brother, and her childish crush on him had been as embarrassing for him as it had been for her. She didn't think she'd ever totally live down that horrid singing Valentine she'd sent him during her first year at Hogwarts. Eyes as green as a fresh-pickled toad indeed. She shuddered at the memory.  
  
But Hermione was nodding. "Haven't you noticed the way he watches you, Gin? It's positively sweet. And besides, look at yourself! Red hair is coming back into vogue, at least among the muggles, and I have friends who would die for hair like yours. And for your figure. For that matter, I would die for a figure like yours." She glanced pointedly at her small chest.   
  
Ginny shook her head. Why was it that girls with perfectly normal breasts always wished they'd been "blessed" with the Highsmith bosom Ginny had inherited from her mother's side of the family? "No you wouldn't, Hermione. Imagine boys like Malfoy talking to you in the halls just to get a glimpse down your robes. I swear, not one boy at Hogwarts looks at my face when we're talking anymore. And I've outgrown all my robes, and Mum and Dad can't really afford to order all new ones for me." She sighed. "Oh well. At least Harry's different. He looks me in the eye. That's how I know he thinks of me like a sister."  
  
"If you say so." Hermione, clearly, didn't believe a word Ginny was saying. "But I still say he's mad for you."  
  
Enough of this. "Speaking of mad for you, when are you going to put my brother out of his misery and promise to run away with him and bear his children?" Ginny's grin grew and grew as she watched Hermione's shock turn to embarrassment to utter mortification and back to...what? That secret little look suggested Hermione had given this idea much thought over her holiday along the Mediterranean.  
  
Before either of them could speak further on the subject, the bell for dinner rang, and the girls headed downstairs and out to the enormous, heavy-laden table in the yard. 


	3. Girl Talk

Growing Up Weasley  
  
Chapter 3. Girl Talk  
  
  
  
Dinner had been a strange affair, in Ginny's eyes. Harry kept stealing glances at her when he thought she wasn't looking (which was silly, considering she was sitting across from him, and across the plate of rolls from him). Ron and Hermione were carrying on some sort of flirtation that included a dozen little arguments - which both of them seemed to be enjoying immensely. Ginny's parents were dividing their time between listening to Bill talk about his new digs in Rome and casting worried glances down the table to Harry and Ginny. It was quite normal for them to worry about Harry - everyone worried about Harry, even though he'd managed to face down Voldemort at least four times and outwit Snape and Filch for the past five years. But now they were obviously worrying about Ginny, too. She wondered why. It wasn't like she'd gotten mixed up in any dark magic since her run-in with Tom Riddle four years ago. In fact, it was just the opposite. She had the best marks in her year in transfiguration and (much to Ron's everlasting disgust) potions.  
  
All things considered, Ginny hadn't been able to enjoy her plum pudding. She thought she should confront her parents about whatever was worrying them, but she had never been one to do that. Hmm...maybe she'd ask Hermione about it later. She always knew everything.  
  
After the meal was cleared away, though, things seemed to get better. Bill and Charlie started one last pick-up game of Quidditch before they left, and soon there were six brooms in the air (Percy, of course, had far more important things to do). Ginny happily went to get her broom, but Charlie stopped her. "Sorry, Gin. It's likely to get a bit rough. Better stay with Mum and Hermione."  
  
There were a number of replies she could have given to that, but Harry was there first. "It's okay, Charlie. Ginny can be on our team. I'll play beater."  
  
At this, Ginny flushed bright red. Charlie looked at her with a knowing grin, but said only, "Alright, Harry. If you think it's a good idea." Harry nodded, and Ginny's heart soared. Sometimes, she thought, chivalry was a good thing. She mounted her broom, and with Harry flew toward the middle of the field where the Weasley boys played, well protected from muggle eyes.  
  
Ron and Bill, however, balked at Ginny playing Quidditch with them. "It makes the teams uneven," was Bill's reasoning, while Ron went right for the predictable argument of "fragile," and "protect," and a hundred other typically male reasons to keep her from playing. Fred and George, who usually sided with Ginny when it came to Quidditch, this time agreed with Bill. Harry didn't speak up again. Knowing when she was beaten, Ginny angrily turned her broom back toward the house. She'd show them. This year was a rebuilding year for the Gryffindor house team, and she was determined to get on that team and show all her brothers up.   
  
For now, though, she figured she had to settle for kitchen chat with her mum and Hermione. Just outside the kitchen, though, she thought she heard her name. She had no qualms about eavesdropping.   
  
"I really should have invited Ginny along, Mrs. Weasley. She would have loved the Riviera. I feel a bit badly for not having though of it earlier."  
  
"Nonsense, Hermione. You were a guest yourself. Don't give it another thought."  
  
Nothing too terribly informative. They were just talking about Hermione's trip, Ginny thought, and stepped through the door.   
  
Molly looked up and, recognizing the look of disappointment on her only daughter's face, got up to fix another cup of tea. "They wouldn't let you play?" she asked.  
  
Ginny pouted. She knew she was acting like a baby, but she loved Quidditch, and she knew that she was good. "It isn't fair, Mum," she said, stomping her foot in a childish bout of temper. "They never let me play. 'Too many people, Gin.' 'Too rough for you, sister dear,'" she mimicked. "'No, Ginny. You belong in a glass case. Quidditch isn't a game for ladies. You might muss your hair or tear your dress or, heaven forbid, break a nail.'" She groaned her frustration as she sat down in the offered chair and wrapped her hands around the comforting warmth of a fresh cuppa. Her mum made the best tea. "At least Harry was willing to let me play," she muttered, sipping the sweet nectar of home and hearth.  
  
Hermione, who'd also been sipping her tea, choked and spat it out. "Harry?" she asked, wide-eyed. A knowing grin began to spread across her face. "Well," she said with a smile. "Well." And she turned back to her tea.  
  
Molly looked worried again. "Ginny, dear," she began. Ginny looked up. Already the tea was making her feel a bit better. Her temper had passed.   
  
She wondered if her mother put something in the tea.   
  
It was possible, Ginny knew. Molly had her own talent with potions and elixirs. She'd been a mediwitch in her day. Ginny decided she'd ask later. "Yes, Mum?"  
  
"Now I don't want you to take this in the wrong way, but...I don't think it's a good idea for you to - " she leaned heavily on the next word, hoping to imbue it with all kinds of meaning, "see - Harry." Both Ginny and Hermione stared at Molly, eyes wide with disbelief. "He's Ron's friend, after all. And it could make things awkward for all of you at school. And here. I'd hate for him to have to fend off six overprotective brothers. Harry needs all the friends he can find now, and it would be a terrible thing if he were to lose some of his friends because of - well, because of..." She broke off that stream of thought and paddled into new waters. "And your father and I worry about you, Ginny. Harry's a fine young man, but, well, trouble seems to follow him wherever he goes. We'd hate to see you mixed up in that. Again."   
  
This last was added so softly, Ginny wondered if she'd only heard the word echo in her own mind.  
  
"Mum."  
  
"Now, Ginny, I just want you to think about what I've said," Molly interrupted. "Just -"  
  
"Mum!" This time Ginny practically shouted. Her mother looked at her across the small table, astonishment mingled with disapproval in her eyes. Ginny bit back a smile. This was madness! Her mother was worried about her dating Harry? That was why her parents had been so unhappy at dinner? That was why they kept watching her? Because they thought she was seeing Harry? Harry, who'd never given her a thought other than when he saved her life in the Chamber of Secrets her first year? Harry, who was still pining after Cho Chang? No, no matter what Hermione said, it was impossible. "Mum, I am not seeing Harry. That's just...silly." Her mother raised her eyebrows, as if wondering just how silly the idea really was, given Ginny's past adoration. "Mum. Really. I've gotten over my crush. I can't believe you'd bring it up again. I'm fifteen, not ten. And you know Harry. He's Ron's friend. Not mine."  
  
"Well..."  
  
"And even if I was...seeing him..." she tried not to blush, "I'm not the same idiot I was when I was eleven. I can take care of myself, you know. "I have the best marks in my year."  
  
"Ginny," Molly began gently.  
  
"Besides, what about Ron? If you want to worry about one of your children's love life, worry about his. How is he ever going to measure up to Hermione?" With that, Ginny sipped calmly at her tea while Hermione choked again and turned bright red under Molly's mother hen gaze. Take that, Ginny thought, pleased to have the heat off her.  
  
For some time, Ginny just listened. Rather than go on the warpath for her youngest son, Molly talked seriously with Hermione. Quickly enough, Ron wasn't even part of the discussion, as Molly and Hermione were caught up in a good-natured mother-daughter chat. Ginny got up and poured herself another cup of tea. Sometimes, she thought, you could learn a lot more if people forgot you were there.  
  
Much later, long after the sun had set and the moon shone brightly, six tired and bedraggled Weasley men and Harry returned to the house, worn out and happy in that way only boys were after a particluarly grueling few hours of activity. Hermione was helping Molly tidy up in the kitchen. Percy had gone to sleep - "Must be up early to get into the office," he informed his father gravely. Arthur, however, was still awake, tinkering with one of the hundreds of muggle gadgets in the shed. Ginny was curled up in front of the fire, reading about yet another strong-yet-unsavory woman, Moll Flanders.  
  
As the boys trooped through the house, Molly came out and clucked at them for tracking dirt through her house. Bill just picked up his mother in a great bear hug and laughed. The twins chanted something about "I see London, I see France," until Charlie and Ron managed to silence them. Harry just laughed and cautiously took off his shoes at the front door. Because of this, he was a bit behind the rest of them and happened to see Ginny, curled up in her long flannel nightie and dressing gown, totally immersed in her book.  
  
"What're you reading?" he asked.  
  
Ginny's head shot up, and when she saw Harry, she smiled. She hadn't taken any of her mother's warnings seriously and was just glad it wasn't Fred or George asking - they would tease her without mercy if they found her reading Moll Flanders. She showed Harry the book.   
  
"What, no Gadding With Ghouls?" he asked, taking a seat in the lumpy chair opposite her. Ginny narrowed her eyes, and Harry laughed.  
  
He has a nice laugh, she thought. Then she thought it was good to see him laughing again. For awhile, after the Triwizard Tournament and Cedric Diggory's death and everything, it seemed that Harry might never really laugh again. Ginny was glad to hear it. "It's, well, it's about a prostitute, actually," she told him, turning a bit pink. Harry just stared at her, and this time she laughed. Just a little bit. "It's a classic, Harry." She shook her head. "Sometimes I wonder how you and Ron can spend so much time around Hermione and not pick up anything. Honestly."  
  
"I read," he protested.  
  
"Quidditch Through the Ages hardly counts as classic literature, Harry," she answered. "Though it is rather interesting," she admitted.  
  
He laughed again. "You don't mean you've read it?"  
  
"Of course I have! It's upstairs in my room right now. Charlie gave it to me for my birthday when I was six. Mum yelled at him, because he bought it more for himself than for me, but I've read it about a hundred times since." She gave him a crooked little smile. "I have to know my stuff if I want to get on the house team this year." Pause. "I mean to get on the house team, Harry. I know you're the captain now, and I'm not trying to curry favor or anything, but I'm the best beater you have, now that Fred and George are gone. You have to let me try out, Harry. Even if my brothers think I can't play such a dangerous sport," her voice dripped with sarcasm, "I think they're just afraid I'll beat them."  
  
Harry sat back, and Ginny wondered if maybe she was a little bit too passionate. But then he said, "Well, I think you can play. If you like, we can get in some practice before we go back to Hogwarts. Ron'll understand."  
  
"Really?" Ginny erupted out of her seat and across the hearth to Harry, and gave him a great, lung-squeezing hug. "You are brilliant, Harry!" And, without a thought, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. Then she was gone, a gloriously happy white-flannel spectre racing up the stairs to her oddly-angled room, leaving a thoroughly bemused Harry behind in the darkened living room. 


	4. When Harry Met Ginny

Author's Notes: Thanks, all, for the reviews so far. I am still trying to get into the groove of this story, so all thoughts, suggestions, and comments are REALLY welcome. So far, I have been greatly encouraged by my reviewers (Jessa - glad you're back; maudlin muggle - thanks!) and look forward to writing this fic for you all.  
  
And now a shameless plug, for my first story: Honestly, Hermione. This one is mostly in keeping with that (as in, the characterizations are similar), though this one takes place while the gang's still in school. I'd encourage you to read that one (maybe first, or maye not) and let me know how I'm doing with this story. (I hope my writing's getting better, but I'm not sure.)   
  
On with the tale...  
  
  
Growing Up Weasley  
  
Chapter 4. When Harry Met Ginny  
  
  
  
The next morning, Ginny awoke unnaturally early. Lifting her head to peer at the window through which the sun was just beginning to shine, she wondered what on earth had caused her to wake up. She listened. It wasn't Hermione, who was sleeping like the dead. And no one else seemed to be awake in the house. She flopped back down on her pillows and screwed her eyes shut. She was a light sleeper by nature and could only hope (and beg the gods of naps and counting sheep) to get back to sleep before the rest of the house woke up.  
  
There it was again. Only now Ginny knew what it was. Someone was knocking on her door. "Go 'way," she muttered into her pillow. To no avail. One more knock. Thoroughly irritated, she flung back her covers and stomped across the room. Mornings were not her best time.  
  
"What?" she hurled, not at all ladylike, as she jerked open the door. Then - embarrassment. "Oh. Harry. Sorry." She felt herself going red and was glad for the relative darkness of dawn. She had to wonder what he was doing at her door at this ungodly hour. Could it be possible that her mother and Hermione were right? No, surely Harry wasn't hoping to sneak into her room. Hermione was in the next bed!  
  
"Quidditch," he said, holding up his broom. As understanding registered in her sleepy eyes, he grinned good-naturedly. "We were going to practice, remember?" Then, taking in her just-tumbled-out-of-bed appearance, he shrugged. "Or not." He winked.  
  
Her brain was just waking up, but Ginny wasn't slow to register the flirtatious twinkle in Harry's eyes. She blushed even brighter red, and she was sure he could see it now. She fidgeted a moment in the doorway, uncomfortable yet slightly preening under his gaze. "Harry, please." She rolled her eyes and pretended not to be affected by his words. "Go on. I'll get dressed and meet you out back in five minutes."  
  
"Five minutes?"  
  
She grinned. "Well, maybe ten," she conceded. "Now get out of here before Percy wakes up and starts shrieking about my maidenly virtue." She gave him a little shove and closed the door, listening to him chuckle softly in the hall for a moment before she raced to her closet.  
  
With seven children and a low wage from the Ministry, Arthur Weasley wasn't able to keep his daughter in the latest fashions like her friends. Most of the time, Ginny didn't mind. And as she considered the early-morning chill rising from the earth outside, she was actually grateful. Old jeans of Charlie's (which probably hadn't fit him since he was twelve) over long thermals of indeterminate age and value, with a maroon jumper Ron had avoided wearing as often as he could and a pair of sturdy boots that might have been Fred's or possibly even Percy's. Good thing she wasn't trying to impress Harry with her appearance, Ginny mused as she brushed and nimbly braided her carroty hair. A glance in the mirror ("Maroon is definitely not your color, love - And wash that sleep out of your eyes!") and she was ready to go. Her bedside clock whispered, "Five minutes late," as she slipped out of her room and tiptoed down the stairs.  
  
After stealing a morning scone from the kitchen (magically piping hot and buttery), Ginny grabbed her broom from the mud room just off the kitchen and headed outside. The fresh air helped to wake her up a bit more, so that by the time she reached the field, she was as awake as Harry. She found him sitting on the little rise of earth that hid the field from the rest of Ottery St. Catchpole, watching the sun come up. She sat down companionably beside him. "Morning."  
  
"Morning." He turned to her and asked, "Ready?" She nodded, and he stood up. "Let's go, then"  
  
Ginny laughed. "Are you mad, Harry? Or do you always wake up before dawn to play quidditch?" Even as she asked, though, she finished her scone and got to her feet. "Lead the way, Captain." Harry scrunched his nose a bit, adjusting his glasses. It must be unconscious, Ginny thought, swallowing a giggle. Harry didn't seem like the kind of boy who adjusted his glasses with his nose. It was kind of cute. Then she hurriedly filed away that picture of Harry to think about later.   
  
They walked to the middle of the field, and then Harry began explaining the rules of the game. "Now, there are four balls. The Quaffle, the -"  
  
"I know how to play, Harry," Ginny interrupted irritatedly.   
  
"Fine." He turned a little bit red. "Sorry, Gin. Er...well, what position do you want to play?" He'd never had to audition players before; the empty positions seemed to fill themselves last year. Ron was the new Keeper, and Seamus Finnegan became a Chaser after Angelina Johnson graduated. This year, Ginny (and the rest of Gryffindor House) knew, Harry had to replace four people on the team: two Beaters and two more Chasers.   
  
She answered with certainty. "Beater."   
  
Now, Ginny knew as well as anyone that it was very uncommon for a girl to play that position. It required a strong arm and a certain daring - and perhaps a bit of a death wish. Those bludgers lived up to their name. In fact, she thought, all the female beaters she's ever seen were...well...massive. Which Ginny was not. She went on the defensive before Harry even said a word. "I'm stronger than I look, Harry, honestly. And I'm ambidexterous."   
  
His eyebrows shot up, but Harry was too much of a gentleman to say anything. "Well, what about Chaser, Ginny? I know you're fast." He coughed. "Flyer. You're a fast flyer."  
  
She rolled her eyes. "Chaser? Harry, you've got to let me try! I know I'm good. I can be a beater." He opened his mouth as if to make a judgment, and she beat him to it. "If you say one word about how dangerous it is to be a beater, Harry Potter, I will brew up a love potion that makes you a slave for Malfoy for the whole year. And I can do it, too. Hermione'd probably help me."  
  
"Calm down! I haven't said a word, and already you're threatening my life?" He shook his head, but Ginny could detect a touch of a smile. "Get up on your broom; we'll see what you can do."  
  
For almost three hours in the ever-brightening early morning sun, Harry and Ginny practiced. She could tell he was impressed (but making a valiant attempt not to show it) as she returned every ball he sent her way. Right hand or left, it didn't matter. She'd been telling the truth: she could play as well with either arm. And she had good aim. It was difficult to take careful aim, to send bludgers at a specific target, but Ginny hadn't grown up with six quidditch-mad brothers (well, five quidditch-mad brothers and Percy) for nothing. She was good. Very good. Possibly even better than Charlie, and he'd been legendary at Hogwarts. She had a certain finesse that Fred and George had lacked, and her light weight allowed her to fly almost as fast as Harry, though her broom was of decidedly inferior quality. She was as stubborn as Ron, and as determined not to let a single ball go by. Add to all that a ferocity that was pure Female Weasley, and she made a phenomenal player.  
  
"Let's take a break," Harry called, and they landed their brooms.   
  
The day had already warmed considerably, and both had long since removed their jumpers. Now Ginny dropped to the ground and lay there, spread out, red-faced and sweating. "Phew!" she sighed. "Do you always work the team so hard, Harry? I am exhausted."  
  
Harry flopped down beside her. "Yes, well, you know. Three years with Oliver Wood are enough to make anyone a little bit mad. Sorry, Gin."  
  
She rolled over on her stomach, and rested her chin on her hands, looking at him. "No need, Harry. I didn't mean it. Well," she corrected, "I did, but not in a bad way." She felt her ears begin to turn red - the famous Weasley blush, it always started with the ears - and looked away. Regaining her assurance, she asked, "Well? D'you think I'll do?"  
  
This time, Harry blushed. "Yes," he finally said. "I think you'll do."  
  
Ginny gazed steadfastly at the ground, and did her best to hide her smile. They lay there in companionable silence for awhile, each caught up in a world of private thoughts.  
  
For Ginny, there was a lot to think about. Like any normal fifteen-year-old girl, thoughts of boys often filled her head. And no matter how hard her brothers tried to keep her locked away like a postulate nun, she was well aware of the many masculine eyes cast her way as she traversed the enchanted Hogwarts halls. Her friend Ivy Martin had whispered about it a few times last year. Of course, Ivy was the class beauty, with big dark green eyes that matched her name, and long brown hair that reminded Ginny of nothing so much as liquid chocolate, and a budding hourglass figure that put Ginny's top-heavy frame to shame. So Ginny didn't pay Ivy's words too much mind. But now, with Harry beside her, Ginny began to think sweet thoughts.   
  
They were rudely interrupted, however, by the real thing. Harry was standing now, and cast a shadow over her. She squinted up at him. "Reckon we should head back, Gin? Breakfast is probably finished."  
  
She shook her head. "It's Saturday." He gave her a quizzical stare. "Brunch," she explained, then stretched. She sat up. "We probably should go back, though." He reached for her hand and helped her up. Ginny felt unexpected tingles at Harry's touch. "Thanks," she said, jerking her hand away.   
  
The walk back to the Burrow was an awkward one. Ginny mentally berated herself the whole way. Why had she jerked away from Harry? He probably thought she hated him. Ugh. Horrible, horrible. She didn't hate him. Obviously. In fact, she liked him, after a fashion. Not like she did when she was ten, thank heaven. After all, he wasn't really Harry Potter, Boy Who Lived to her anymore. Not the stuff of legend. Just...Ron's friend Harry. Harry Potter, Captain and Seeker for the Gryffindor quidditch team. Harry, who slid by in potions and made fun of divination. Harry, who had some great adventure or other every year.   
  
Harry Potter, uncatchable catch of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Far prettier girls than Ginny had tried to catch Harry's eye, and only Parvati Patil had ever managed to have a dance with him. It had only been a duty dance, but still - what chance did Ginny really have?  
  
Wait a minute. This was Harry she was thinking about, not some handsome, dashing wizard. Plain old ordinary Harry, with glasses and unmanageable hair. For the past three years, they'd managed to exist in the same House without any of the embarrassing situations that plagued her first year. She was not going to start acting all - coquettish - around him now.   
  
"After you."  
  
They'd reached the Burrow without her noticing it. Now Harry was holding the door open for her. With her new determination not to act a fool, she smiled brightly and said, "Thank you," before passing into the house. He followed, and she continued. "Thanks for practicing with me, too, Harry. Really. You're grand."  
  
"Er...sure, Ginny. No problem." They set their brooms down and were about to open the door into the kitchen when Harry put a hand on her arm, stopping her. She looked back. Harry was holding a finger to his lips. "Shh." Now she could hear the voices, too. She grinned. It appeared Harry didn't mind eavesdropping, either. They listened closer.  
  
"Ron, Harry's your best friend!" Hermione exclaimed softly.   
  
"I know!" Ginny could hear the warring emotions in her brother's voice and wondered what they were talking about. After a moment of tense silence, she found out. "But she's my baby sister, 'Mione. And I don't care about his personal code of honor or his prospects or anything else. He just better not do anything to Ginny."  
  
Hermione laughed. "Don't you think it's time you dropped the 'baby' Ron? Ginny's fifteen. And besides, I think they're good for each other."  
  
Ron snorted. Ginny wanted to burst through the door and perform a particularly nasty curse on her brother - how dare he snort like that at her expense? And he was worried about what Harry might do to her precious reputation? "Good for each other? My sister practically gets killed by Tom Riddle and almost kills the rest of us in the process. Or don't you remember? You were Petrified at the time."  
  
"I remember perfectly," Hermione shot back, and Ginny could tell she was beginning to lose her temper, too. "And I remember that you were never really in danger. Behind a wall of fallen rock with Professor Lockhart, isn't that right?"  
  
Ha! Take that, Ron, Ginny thought, turning to grin at Harry. He gave her a bit of a wary grin in return. The awkwardness of her situation came flooding back, and Ginny felt her ears turn pink. She turned away.  
  
"I just don't think Ginny's old enough to be going out with Harry," Ron said petulantly. "'Mione, the way he was looking at her yesterday, I think he might be, well, keen on her." Ron was obviously uncomfortable with the thought. "Stopped right in the middle of a story about those awful muggles he lives with just to say hello and ask how her summer was - it wasn't right!" Ginny blushed even brighter. "And now they're both gone." Then his tone changed. "Y'know, 'Mione, everyone else is having a bit of a lie-in. Maybe we -"  
  
"What a marvelous idea, Ron!" Hermione interrupted a little anxiously. "I'll bet your mother would be pleased if someone else made breakfast this morning. Where are the eggs?"  
  
"That's not - I didn't -" But it was obvious, from the sounds in the kitchen, that any amorous thoughts Ron might have been having had been squelched under Hermione's forage through the pantry.  
  
It sounded safe. Ginny turned around once again, about to ask Harry if he thought the coast was relatively clear now. It was too embarrassing for both of them to stay eavesdropping any longer, and besides, it didn't appear that anything else was about to be revealed by Harry's two best friends. But when Ginny turned, she was caught by Harry's eyes. He was staring at her as if he'd never seen her before - the same way he'd stared yesterday when he first arrived. She blinked twice. "Harry?" In half a second, his countenance changed, and Ginny thought she detected a note of determination in his glass-green eyes. In another second, it was over. Chaste, practically undetectable. And now his eyes reflected triumph.  
  
He had kissed her.  
  
Harry opened the door to the kitchen and breezed through, leaving Ginny in the mud room, mouth agape, ready to swoon.  
  
Her Lancelot had arrived. 


	5. Stolen Kisses

Growing Up Weasley  
  
Chapter 5. Stolen Kisses  
  
  
  
Ron and Hermione hadn't witnessed the kiss-that-almost-wasn't, but both of them were intelligent enough to see what was in front of their eyes. Harry looked positively triumphant. And Ginny...well, Ginny was practically struck dumb in astonishment. So for the rest of the day, Ron tried to keep Harry away from his baby sister. He and Harry practiced quidditch - and Ron refused to let Ginny play. He and Harry (at Hermione's behest) cracked open their schoolbooks and studied potions - and Ron refused to let Ginny help, even though she could have done. He and Harry degnomed the garden - and Ginny refused to help. Hermione watched all of this with barely concealed amusement, and gave Ron a piece of her mind on Ginny's behalf.  
  
The three of them, Ron, Hermione and Harry, had gone for a walk into Ottery St. Catchpole, so that they could talk unhindered by Ron's ever-watchful parents. Ginny had been kept back by her mother, who wanted to talk. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley did love Harry like another son, and they worried about him enough to make up for the Dursleys. The last thing they wanted to overhear was Harry's plan for his sixth year at Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione, though, were a bit more realistic. After all, one did not befriend Harry Potter lightly. Such friendship as they shared came about as a result of many harrowing experiences lived through together. They knew it was best to have some sort of plan for the year.   
  
"Expect You-Know-Who's going to try to get into Hogwarts, Harry?" Ron asked.  
  
Harry shook his head. "No. He knows Dumbledore is onto him. After last year...no." He shuddered reflexively at the memory of his fifth year. He'd thought nothing could be worse that watching Cedric Diggory die and doing wand-to-wand battle with Voldemort, but all of that was only a taste, a preview, of what had been in store for fifth year. Only, they'd all been on their guard last year. As bad as it had been, at least Harry'd been prepared. "I think - I think he'll try to get me alone again, like at the Triwizard tournament. He's getting stronger all the time, and he knows it. Maybe this time, since he's got my blood, he'll be stronger than me." He looked at his two closest friends, who'd both gone ashen-faced at his suggestion.  
  
Hermione squared her shoulders and swallowed the bitter taste of fear that rose in her mouth. "Well that's it then. We'll make sure you never go anywhere alone. That way, maybe, well..."  
  
Harry was shaking his head. "That's impossible, 'Mione. We have to sleep sometime. And there's no way you and Ron can be my bodyguards every waking moment. Even if you were -" he shrugged - "remember what happened to Cedric." Then he shrugged, and tried to lighten the mood. "Besides, you two wouldn't like having me around all the time. Think what it would be like having me sit in on your snog sessions." He shuddered playfully, then grinned as both Hermione and Ron turned beet red.  
  
Hermione, at least, had her wits about her, and shot back, "Oh, I don't know. I think Ginny could keep an eye on you when Ron and I are busy." She smiled. "And I'm sure Ron would be happy for you to act as her protector." Her smile grew wider, and her eyes twinkled. "I don't suppose Ginny would mind it, either."  
  
"Oy!" Ron cried, clapping his hands over his ears. "Do you mind, Hermione? That's my baby sister you're talking about."  
  
"Oh, would you stop already?" she demanded, turning on him. "Ginny is not a baby, Ron. If you keep treating her like one, she's going to end up hating you. She's quite capable of making her own decisions, you know."  
  
"I'm not treating her like a baby," he defended. "I'm trying to protect her, like a good brother should."  
  
"You're going to suffocate her."  
  
"I'm not!"  
  
"You are!"  
  
"You're only angry that I'm not trying to -"  
  
"I'm angry that you..."  
  
But Harry didn't hear the rest. As was their custom, Hermione and Ron were in the midst of a full-blown battle. Harry was no help in settling their arguments - no one was, really - and he found the easiest solution was to simply leave them alone until the battle was won. So he headed back toward the Burrow, deep in thought about this year and what he was going to do. So it was that he didn't even see a certain red-headed girl until he'd practically run her over.  
  
"Harry!" she shouted, getting his attention as she jumped out of his way.  
  
"What? Oh, hi, Gin. Sorry about that. I didn't see you."  
  
She grinned. "Really." He looked a bit sheepish. Ginny thought she detected bigger thoughts in those famous green eyes, so she dropped the teasing. "Dad sent me to find you. He said he needed to speak to you about something, right away. I think he got an owl from Dumbledore." She furrowed her brow. "You seem worried, Harry. Is your scar hurting?" She wasn't stupid; she knew what Harry was thinking about, even without him explaining. He shook his head, but even so, his hand rose involuntarily to the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. "You can tell me, Harry. Ron may think I'm fragile as a porcelain doll and should be kept in a glass case - look, but don't touch - but I promise, I won't break." She shrugged. "Well, I might, you know, if a rogue bludger hits me in a quidditch match -" they grinned at each other - "but other than that..." She left the invitation hanging in the air, and Harry took it.  
  
"It's like this, Ginny," he began, then told her everything he'd talked about with Ron and Hermione, and some of his other thoughts, besides. She was a good listener. As they walked, she nodded, smiled, bit her lip, processed what he was saying, but didn't say a thing. Obviously unused to having such a non-judgmental listener, Harry poured forth perhaps a little more than he should have. "And now I have to worry about you, too."  
  
She stopped walking, and he did, too. What on earth was that supposed to mean? she wondered. Was Harry about to take up the banner of Protector, along with her brothers? Dreadful, dreadful thought, that. "You needn't worry about me, Harry," she told him. "I've a whole family of worriers working round the clock."  
  
"Well, yeah," he agreed, nodding, "but I'm the one who'll have to fend them all off if you take a bludger to the head in our match against Slytherin." He darted forward and, taking advantage of her bewildered state, stole another kiss. "See you later, Ginny," he said, and waved before walking out to the gardening shed where Arthur Weasley was tinkering and waiting for him.  
  
Ginny stood still for a moment, watching Harry's receding back. Then she whooped for joy and waltzed into the house with a bright smile pasted across her face. She'd done it! She'd convinced Harry that she deserved a place on the Gryffindor team. She was going to play quidditch, and no one was going to stop her.  
  
Inside, she met up with her mum in the front room and gave Molly a happy kiss on the cheek. "Mum, I think this is the best day of my life. And it's not even my birthday!" she announced before finally coming to rest on the overstuffed loveseat in front of the large window. She wished she had her journal with her, but she didn't want to go all the way to her room to get it. Never mind, she thought. She'd write everything down later.  
  
Sometimes Ginny thought she might be a bit of a procrastinator, but she figured she'd worry about her bad habits later.  
  
For now, she wanted to think over her good fortune. She couldn't wait to get to school and put on those quidditch robes for the first time. And she was sure she was at least equal to any other player at school - better, if she let her ego inflate a bit.   
  
Anyway, as wonderful as being part of the quidditch team was, that wasn't even the most important thing. The unthinkable had happened - twice! - and Ginny wondered why. It was obvious now, she thought, that Harry fancied her. After all, he'd kissed her, hadn't he? And he seemed to pay a good deal more attention to her this summer than he'd done in the past. Hermione had noticed right away. Her mother had cautioned her about it. Even Ron (who was infamous for his almost deliberate blindness to anything awkward or uncomfortable for him) had noticed a change in Harry's attitude toward Ginny. She wondered why.  
  
Ginny knew she was pretty. Even before her bosom had burst to life, she'd gotten her fair share of attention from the boys at school. Her heavy red hair marked her as a Weasley, but Ginny liked her hair. It was (with the exception of her brothers) a mark of her individuality. And she could do the most interesting things with the long thick mass. She had a slight figure, for the most part, and clear pale skin the other girls envied (marred only by a light splash of freckles across her nose). Her big brown eyes were fringed with spiky ginger lashes - almost invisble lashes, really, but she liked them. Ivy Martin, who was a quarter veela and a quarter muggle and half witch, often told Ginny she had a pixyish face - which was apparently quite a compliment for muggles.   
  
While not as beautiful as Ivy or as intimidatingly brilliant as Hermione or as relaxed and easy-going as Fred and George's friends Alicia and Katie, Ginny had developed a small following of her own. Neville, she knew, was besotted. But that was probably just because she'd gone to the Yule Ball with him when he asked. And Colin's little brother Dennis had developed a bit of a crush on her over the past year - rather like Harry had had on Cho Chang, to be honest.   
  
Ginny grinned at that thought. She and Cho had volunteered to assist Madame Pomfrey several times last year and had become cgood friends. Cho had given Ginny any number of helpful hints about gently deflecting Dennis' adoration.   
  
There were others, too: one Hufflepuff boy (a Muggle-born named Evan Miller), and a Ravenclaw she knew from Advanced Potions, George Montgomery. Perhaps she wasn't racking up admirers like her friend Ivy, but Ginny could hold her own when her dormitory got together for girl talk. Even so, Harry's newfound interest in her was - unexpected, to say the least.   
  
Because Ginny really had gotten over her infant crush. Really. In her third year, actually, though no one would ever believe that. She had worked hard to think of Harry as a friend, and a friend of her brother at that. When Neville had asked her to the Yule Ball, she'd said yes with only the slightest twinge of regret. And her fourth year had done wonders for her self-esteem as she spent more time with her fellow classmates and less time with her brothers. She'd cultivated friendships outside of Gryffindor, too. She'd earned the grudging (very grudging) respect of Snape with her talent and skill at potion-brewing. She wasn't perfect, and she tended to lose her temper in Muggle Studies and with Madame Hooch, but she was, for the most part, a happy, self-confident student at Hogwarts.   
  
Which was why she felt so mixed-up about Harry's sudden attention. True, he was one of the most sought-after boys at Hogwarts. True, her heart did do a little flip when he'd looked at her with those intense green eyes. True, the memory of his light kisses brought a smile to her lips. True, deep down (way deep down) she'd never completely quelled her feelings for him. Still, fancying Harry had never brought her anything but embarrassment and confusion. And her mother's warnings were still floating around in her head. And she couldn't imagine Ron's reaction - well, actually, she'd had a foretaste of it that morning. She could guess what he'd say if he actually saw Harry kissing her. And what would it be like if they were to...go out...when they got back to school? How would the other Gryffindors react? How would the other girls act? Would Harry fold under public scrutiny and pretend he didn't care a fig for her? Would she be a new target for attacks and (perish the thought!) for Voldemort?  
  
This, Ginny mused, was why she put off thinking about things. "I'm going to see what Dad's working on," she informed her mother.  
  
"Just a minute, Ginny," Molly said. Ginny stopped, halfway out the door, and turned. "I believe your father is talking to Harry just now. Why don't you sit down?"  
  
Oh, no. Ginny just knew what was coming. "Mum, please," she begged. "don't do it."  
  
"I think it's time we had a little mother-daughter chat, Ginny," she clucked. "Now I know I wasn't quite...tactful yesterday when I asked you to stay away from Harry. And anyway, I know you didn't heed my advice." Ginny gaped, and Molly smiled wisely. "I told you, dear, I see more than you children give me credit for." Ginny closed her mouth. "Don't worry. I'm not going to tell you about the birds and the bees. I hope you'll wait until you're married for that."   
  
Ginny felt her ears go red and prayed no one would walk in on this little chat.  
  
"I just want to say that your father and I love Harry like a son, and we trust him - and you. But Ginny, do be careful." A new note of concern crept into Molly's warm voice. "Harry doesn't go looking for trouble, but he still seems to find it. Bad enough Ron gets mixed up in it - But Ron is strong and brave and a true friend. You, on the other hand, are -" Molly saw the light of anger and annoyance flicker to life in her daughter's eyes and changed tack. "We want you to be careful, Ginny. Your father and I talked about it last night, and we know you're a grown girl now, quite capable of making your own decisions," this mollified Ginny somewhat, "so we just want you to be careful. Anyone close to Harry is bound to be a target, now the Dark Lord has risen again. We would," here Molly's voice wavered, "hate to lose you, my child. You are precious to us."  
  
A tear sprung uninvited to Ginny's eye, and she dashed it away. That was the last thing she expected her mum to say. She was overwhelmed. She stood up and went to her mother. Hugging her close, she promised, "Don't worry, Mum. Nothing will happen to me. You won't lose me. Or Harry. I swear it."  
  
Molly's own eyes glittered with unshed tears. "Go on with you, then. Go fetch Harry and make your brothers miserable." A hint of a grin brightened Molly's face, mirroring the one Ginny wore. "Don't imagine I'm unaware of what you're thinking, dear. Only give Ron a bit of a break and keep your snogging away from his poor eyes, will you?"  
  
Thinking again that she'd like to be like her mother someday, Ginny scampered out of the house and toward the shed. It was high time she paid Harry back for those two unexpected kisses. Getting back at all six of her brothers for their unwelcome protection would just be an added bonus. And she'd worry about the consequences later. 


	6. Stealing Them Back

Author's Notes: Special disclaimer for the line from Disney's "The Little Mermaid." Big surprise - I don't own any of the rights to that movie, either.  
  
Growing Up Weasley  
  
Chapter 6. Stealing Them Back  
  
  
  
Ginny headed out toward the shed, looking for Harry and trying to figure out what she was going to do. After all, she still had to repay her brothers for that ambush yesterday. And, truth be told, she wouldn't mind getting Harry back for taking her by surprise - twice! - no matter how much she enjoyed it. Plus, she'd like to know just what he was thinking.  
  
"Dad?" she called, making her presence known, in case they'd been having a discussion at all like the one Ginny had just had with her mother. She didn't want to walk in on that. "Dad?" she repeated, knocking on the door to the gardening shed.  
  
"Come in, come in," Arthur Weasley called back. Ginny opened the door to see her father and Harry leaning over a workbench covered in muggle gadgets. It appeared Harry was explaining the purpose of each of them.   
  
She smothered a giggle, as the scene from a muggle cartoon floated into her mind. Hermione had told her about it, even sung the song on a dare one night in the Gryffindor common room. What was the line? "I've got gadgets and gizmos a-plenty, I've got whosits and whatsits galore. You want thingamabobs? I've got twenty!" Something about a mermaid, Ginny thought. Pity the muggles didn't know what real mermaids were like. Still, the song fit her father perfectly. He was enthralled by the hundreds of little objects that made no sense in his world but were fascinating just the same.  
  
"Now tell me, Harry, what the muggles do with this thing. A blender, is it?"  
  
This time, Ginny giggled aloud. She loved her father - she really did. But sometimes she had to wonder if he had forgotten everything he ever learned at Hogwarts. He'd done muggle studies, just as Ginny was doing. There were some things he really should know. "Dad, you know they use that thing in the kitchen. For mixing up drinks, right, Harry?"  
  
Harry gave her an approving look. "Right, Gin. How did you know that?"  
  
She rolled her eyes. Really. Harry may have been many things, but apparently he was just like the rest of her family when it came to underestimating her. "I do have muggle friends besides you, you know. And Hermione isn't the only one who reads her textbooks." He still seemed in a bit of a fog. "Muggle studies, Harry. Remember? Or weren't you aware I was studying muggles?" The question got her thinking. How much did Harry know about her, after all?  
  
Time enough to worry about that later. Right now she had some vengeance to wreak. "Dad, is it all right if I steal Harry away for a minute?" she asked.   
  
"Not at all. I was just going to go inside and see if I might pinch a treacle tart from the pantry anyway." Arthur shooed the pair of them out, then followed. Ginny would have had to be blind to miss the significant look her father sent to Harry. Apparently they had had a talk that paralleled the one Ginny and Molly had had. Ginny just rolled her eyes. Honestly. Was this really necessary? It was just Harry, after all. Better save significant looks and warnings and such for when Ginny got into real trouble.   
  
Once outside, Harry turned to Ginny, a little warily, and asked, "You wanted to ask me somthing, Gin?"  
  
What she wanted to do, Ginny thought with sudden irritation, was smack Harry right in the head. Why was he suddenly so nervous? Afraid she was going to do something embarrassing, or maybe demand a declaration of love? What, Mr. Two Kisses thought he could dish it out, but he couldn't handle the reprecussions? The way Harry was looking at her, she might have been a black widow spider eying him for her next meal.   
  
Apparently Lancelot wasn't quite so dashing when he was just sixteen.  
  
But Ron and Hermione were just returning from town. She'd have to think about Harry later. Perhaps...just maybe...she could kill two birds with one stone. It would torment Ron to no end if he saw her and Harry kissing. And at the same time, he would probably hound Harry to within an inch of his life - which would be fair payment for his stolen kisses. Ginny eyed Ron and Hermione, waiting until they were close enough to make no mistake, and then -  
  
She threw her arms around Harry and gave him a great loud theatrical kiss.  
  
When she stepped back, Harry look positively kerfoffeled. Ginny couldn't keep from grinning at him and tossing a light-hearted wink at her big brother (who also looked a bit - well, astounded. And disturbed. And...Ginny thought it best not to ponder too long on her brother's current state of mind). She left the scene with a light heart and a skip in her step. Let Harry explain.   
  
Once in her room, Ginny plucked her journal out from under her pillow and slid down to sit on the floor, scrunched up between her bed and the window. She picked a quill from the six in her nightstand drawer and opened a bottle of ink that had fallen in the crack between her nightstand and the wall. She had a lot to write about, and she wanted to get the exact look on Harry's face down in ink before she forgot it.  
  
Alas, that was not to be. Just as Ginny finished her first page, the door to her bedroom burst open, admitting a rather shocked and confused Hermione. "Ginny Weasley! What has gotten into you?" Ginny peeked over the top of her bed and smiled a bit at Hermione. For her part, Hermione shut the door and went over to where Ginny was sitting, folding her legs under her as she sat down on Ginny's bed. "Your brother is downstairs right now ready to tear the stuffing out of Harry - and of you. What were you thinking, kissing Harry like that in front of him?"  
  
Really. Honestly. For the love of Count Chocula (some breakfast cereals had made their debut in the wizarding community, and this was Ginny's favorite) and all the gods of Olympus. Did everyone have it in her? Ginny would have expected Hermione, at least, to be on her side. "You know, 'Mione, if you keep having these bipolar moments, Madame Pomfrey is going to keep you locked away in the infirmary all year long." Ginny sighed loudly. "Aren't you the one who told me that Harry was, and I quote, 'mad' for me? And didn't you tell Ron this morning that he should stop treating me like a baby? And," by now Hermione had turned quite red, "didn't you say that you thought Harry and I were good for each other?"  
  
"Well...yes... But Ginny, I didn't think you'd -" Hermione stopped, shaking her head. "All right. You're right. I apologize." Ginny's barely-there eyebrows rose at this; Hermione rarely admitted she was wrong about anything. "I suppose you just shocked me." At this, a small smile played about Hermione's mouth. "But then, that was your intent, right?"  
  
Ginny grinned.  
  
Hermione shook her head again, only this time with grudging respect. "Remind me never to upset you, Ginny. You get your revenge in the most unexpected ways. Ron should've let you play quidditch, eh?"  
  
"You think he's learned?" Ginny asked in reply. The two girls stared at each other a moment before coming to the same conclusion. "Not bloody likely," they said at the same time, before dissolving into giggles.  
  
After their giggles passed, the girls found they had much to talk about. Ginny picked Hermione's brain for how she really felt about Ron. And Hermione acted as confidante and Wise Advisor while Ginny talked with total honesty about Harry. She told Hermione about Harry's stolen kisses, Molly's Heart-to-Heart Talk, and Harry's sudden wariness. She asked Hermione if the older girl knew what Harry was thinking and if Harry might really - really - like her. Hermione, who could only guess at her best friend's frame of mind, nonetheless tried to reassure Ginny.  
  
And so it went. The next two weeks were a bit tense for all of them. Ron had decided that Ginny was acting like a veela and had somehow bewitched Harry. Harry seemed not to know his own mind. Sometimes he seemed fond of Ginny, and they continued their game of stealing kisses, and then he ignored her for an entire day, even at meals. Hermione spent her time alternating between disgust with her two best friends and casual flirting with Ron. Ginny couldn't wait for school to begin. At least then she'd have classes and her own friends to occupy her mind. And she wouldn't have to put up with her brothers...except for Ron.  
  
It appeared that Ron had been a bit loud in his accusations, and Percy had overheard. Percy had then put the word out, and every day Ginny received a lecture from one or the other of her brothers. Bill sent owls from Rome, special delivery Howlers for Ginny. Charlie sent two owls, also howlers, from Romania. Fred and George sent terrified chickens they'd bewitched to be messengers, from their new London digs. Percy took time every morning before he left for the Ministry to caution Ginny (and Hermione; Percy wasn't particularly choosy about his audience when he was delivering a sermon) about her wayward path. Ron, at least, was fair in his lectures. As much as he said to Ginny, he also said to Harry. If he caught them kissing (which he tried his best not to do), he lectured them both. For that bit of equality, Ginny decided to stop tormenting Ron with the over-the-top flirtations that even Harry didn't take seriously.  
  
All things considered, the four students were definitely relieved when their Hogwarts owls arrived with the new textbook lists. It was time to go back to school.  
  
  
A/N: I know this is a short (very short) chapter, but it seemed like a good place to end it. Don't worry. I'm going straight to work on ch. 7.  
  
ps - Jellybean Oasis - Bob and Larry ROCK! More people should watch VeggieTales. (Cebuuuuuu!) 


	7. Quality Quidditch Supply

Growing Up Weasley  
  
Chapter 7. Quality Quidditch Supply  
  
  
  
Dumbledore had used all the connections he still had within Cornelius Fudge's Ministry of Magic to take extra care of Harry over the summer. Apparently, this included the car sent to take him and Hermione and the Weasleys to London and Diagon Alley for school supplies. Since there were only the four students now, one car fit them all - with only a little magical expansion.  
  
They took three rooms at the Leaky Cauldron two days before the four were due to meet the Hogwarts Express. Hermione and Ginny shared a room across the hall from the boys and down three doors from Molly and Arthur. Ginny thought this an excellent set-up and almost immediately began plotting ways to throw her brother and Hermione together.   
  
As for Harry - well, he was on his own, as far as Ginny was concerned. Between his apparent uncertainty and her brothers' attempts to protect her feminine virtue, Ginny had had enough love and romance to last her until Christmas.   
  
As soon as they arrived and unpacked, Ginny wanted to go into Diagon Alley. Her parents weren't quite so eager. "Mum, I am fifteen years old. I think I can manage to walk around Diagon Alley by myself." Her mother looked a bit uncertain, so Ginny appealed to her father. One good thing about being the only girl in a family of six boys - she had her father wrapped around her little finger. "Dad?" she pleaded.   
  
"Well...why don't you wait for Hermione, or Harry and Ron, Ginny," he suggested.   
  
"Dad, please. Ron is completely besotted by Hermione, and I don't want to tag along after them like a poor lost puppy. And Harry's got better things to do than chaperone me about. I'll be fine. And besides, Fred and George are out there."  
  
"Up to all kinds of bedevilment no doubt," Molly muttered darkly. Ginny and her father shared a grin. Even though Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was destined for success, Molly Weasley still thought her sons should have done something better, more worthwhile, than open a joke shop.   
  
"No doubt," Ginny agreed. "Please, may I go?" she asked again. And this time she was rewarded by a sigh from her father that indicated he was going to give in. She smiled and thanked her parents before either of them could say another word, then disappeared out the door.  
  
In a minute, she was back. "Sorry. May I have some money? I'll buy my books and things, too."  
  
Arthur cleared his throat. "Ahem. Er...you can just put your books on our account at Flourish & Blotts, Ginny. We'll be along later to take care of it."  
  
Ginny flushed slightly, embarrassed in her own way about the state of the Weasley finances. Mumbling some excuse or other, she made her exit. She headed down the hall, intent on getting out into the Alley. She passed right by the room she shared with Hermione, not looking in to invite the older girl along. Ginny wanted some time to herself.   
  
"I don't know what you're talking about, Ron," Hermione was saying. "I never said a thing to Malfoy about anything. I haven't seen him since we left the Hogwarts Express at the start of the summer!"  
  
That slowed Ginny down. She peered at the closed door, as if expecting it to clarify Hermione's statement. Malfoy? What had he to do with anything? Hateful git that he was, why was Ron asking Hermione about him? Draco Malfoy - hater of Muggle-borns. It was just nonsense. Ginny shook her head and turned away.  
  
"Malfoy was downstairs this morning," Harry explained, causing Ginny to spin around again. He was sitting on the end of one the twin beds in the room he shared with Ron. The door was open, and he was listening to the argument going on behind closed doors across the hall. She furrowed her brows, trying to understand. Harry smiled. "C'mon. I'll try to explain." He gestured for her to come into the room.  
  
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Impossible. I don't think anyone could explain those two." Still... It was a bit hard to leave Harry here, listening to his two best friends arguing, with nothing to do but wait for them to quit. And that, Ginny thought, would never happen. She leaned against the doorjamb. "I'm going out into Diagon Alley," she told him. "Want to come?"  
  
He seemed to be weighing his options, Ginny thought, watching Harry glance between her and the closed door across the hall. "Don't worry, Harry," she said with an exhasperated sigh. "I'm not going to attack you or anything. If you'd rather wait here and listen to them," she jerked her thumb over her shoulder at the door across the hall, "please be my guest. I was just being polite." She turned on her heel and headed for the stairs.  
  
"Ginny, wait!"  
  
She paused. That didn't take long. Perhaps there was hope for Harry after all. A few steps, and he'd caught up with her. Companionably, he put his arm under hers, and together they walked through the Leaky Cauldron to the alley out back. Harry tapped on the appropriate bricks, and they passed through the Muggle world into the bright and colorful magical world of Diagon Alley. Both of them heaved an unconscious sigh of relief at being completely among magical folk again. "Well," Harry asked, smiling down at her, "where shall we go first?"  
  
Before Ginny could answer, though, there came a well-known and well-hated voice from her other side. "Well well, what have we here?" Draco Malfoy asked in what Ginny was sure he thought to be a frightening tone. She just rolled her eyes. "Another poor, penniless Weasley, Potter? What, not satisfied with your stupid sidekick and that ugly mudblood?"  
  
Oh, please, Ginny thought. Was this pathetic attempt to frighten them really supposed to work? Was she supposed to be hurt? Afraid? Worried? What was it with boys that made them act tough...when they so clearly were not?   
  
It seemed to work, though. Ginny looked up at Harry and was only slightly surprised to see him begin to turn red with anger. She sighed heavily, and decided to head this fight off before it started. She glared at the white-faced boy and his hulking bodyguards. "Oh, sod off, Malfoy," she answered coolly, causing all four boys to stare at her with shock in their eyes. "Did you suppose we would run screaming from you the moment you opened your mouth? That we might cower at the sight of you? Pathetic. You really ought to think up new threats and insults, you know. These ones are getting a bit tired." She shrugged and turned her pixie-ish face up at Harry. "Shall we?" she asked, tucking her arm in his again and heading down the Alley.  
  
The pair walked a little way in silence, and Ginny bit back a grin. She could tell Harry was a bit flabbergasted, but really. If she was supposed to wait like a damsel in distress for Harry to avenge her honor, she was only going to get bored. Damsels in distress were a bit dull, and she could handle Malfoy as well as anyone. Finally, she broke the silence. "Are you going to buy your books, too, Harry?"  
  
He shrugged as though he hadn't given it a thought. "I dunno. I guess I should. D'you mind stopping at Gringott's, Gin? I have to get something from my vault."  
  
She shook her head. "Fine, I don't mind. And after we buy our books, what say we go to Quality Quidditch Supply? Haven't they got a new broom series in?"  
  
So that was what they did. Ginny rode with Harry on a whirlwind ride through the darkness to his vault far under Gringott's, and then they went to Flourish & Blotts. Ginny felt a bit ashamed as she looked for her textbooks in the secondhand section, but Harry was quite good-natured about it, even helping her poke through the mess of books to find the best copy of her latest Muggle Studies text. "Pity Ron didn't take Muggle studies," he said as he tossed aside a much-worn copy of An Ordinary History of Non-Magical Britain. "Might go a long way to mending things with my aunt and uncle if Ron hadn't yelled over the phone that time."  
  
Ginny giggled. She well remembered Ron's one use of a Muggle telephone. "Maybe Hermione'll help him out," she suggested. "If they ever stop yelling long enough to listen to each other."  
  
"Not likely, is it?"  
  
"Not a bit," she agreed. She let Harry carry her books to the counter and was relieved when he stepped away to collect his own books. So he didn't hear her as for credit. Thankfully the witch behind the counter was a sympathetic type, and finished the transaction with wonderful aplomb. In a few minutes, both Harry and Ginny were back on the pavement, books bought.   
  
"Harry! Ginny!"  
  
It was Ron. Ginny looked, and saw Hermione was with him. Her shoulders fell imperceptibly. Not that she'd admit it to anyone, but she'd been having a good time with Harry, just the two of them. He'd been nice, and funny, and completely relaxed. Now, with Ron along...she wondered.  
  
"Gin," Harry whispered, urgently. She looked up at him. "Ginny, I -" She raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Well, y'see, I -"  
  
"Go on, Harry," she urged. Whatever he wanted to say, it seemed pretty obvious that he didn't want Ron or Hermione to hear it. She watched him steal a glance at his friends - who were fast gaining on them - and then look back down at her.   
  
She could practically see what he was thinking. Harry had never been one to keep his true feelings hidden very well. So she was a little surprised when all he did was say, "Let's go to Quality Quidditch Supply."  
  
She blinked. Twice. Tried to figure out what he had just said. It certainly hadn't been what she'd been expecting. "Quidditch. Em...right. Shall we?"  
  
It was distinctly uncomfortable again between the two of them as they walked a bit further down the street. Ginny pretended not to notice, and in a moment, she'd forgotten all about it in the presence of the newest, fastest, and most spectacular brooms the galleon could buy.  
  
"Look at that, Harry!" Ron enthused as he and Hermione caught up. "Hammond Evers! Isn't he the American Seeker on the Italian national team?"  
  
"He's actually on the Cyprus National team, Ron," Ginny corrected before Harry could. "He played for Italy at university. He's supposed to be signing his biography here next week." She sighed dreamily at the winking, larger than life photo of the American quidditch hero. That was why she didn't notice the strange looks everyone was giving her. "What?" she demanded when she finally looked around. "Can't a girl love quidditch? Hmm, Harry?"  
  
"Eh, well...yes, I -"  
  
"Oh please, Harry," Hermione interrupted. "Just out with it, will you?" She took Ginny's side. "Of course a girl can love quidditch, Ginny. Only promise me you won't start talking about nothing else. I don't think I could tolerate another best friend besotted by the sport." She grinned, and together they faced Ginny's brother. "And don't you say one word about unladylike, Ron, or before God I will hex you every Friday, so that you can't go to Hogsmeade all year."  
  
Ginny smiled as her brother's ears turned bright red. "What?" she asked. "You don't think a sweet delicate flower such as myself can know anything about such a manly sport? Careful, Ron, or I'll take your spot as keeper on the Gryffindor team." And with that, she and Hermione marched off on a tour of the shop. There was a Viktor Krum display in one corner, and both girls knew that nothing could upset Ron as much as Hermione showing an interest in her onetime suitor. Ginny hoped it would have a similar effect on Harry, and perhaps shock him out of this irritating silence in which he'd cocooned himself ever since Ron and Hermione arrived. 


	8. A Compartment of My Own

Author's Notes: Sorry this has taken so horribly long, all. I've been catching up on some reading and avoiding all the things I have to do. Don't worry, though. I intend to finish this thing. Soon...ish. Oh, and if you see a spelling error, please point it out to me. I haven't got spell-check and (to my everlasting shame) still haven't gotten around to buying a dictionary.  
  
Growing Up Weasley  
  
Chapter 8. A Compartment of My Own  
  
  
Kings Cross Station. As busy as ever, Ginny thought. She saw a couple of friends she'd missed over the summer. She recognized the worried and nervous looks of first years. A couple of them appeared to be Muggle-born. Ginny always wondered how Muggle-born wizards and witches managed to find Diagon Alley and get their textbooks and things for first year. She knew Hagrid had taken Harry, and she remembered the way Mum had had to tell him how to get to Platform 9 3/4. How did the other Muggle-borns manage it?  
  
Mystifying, perhaps, but not something Ginny wanted to give much thought just now. "Colin!" she called, with a wave and a smile. In a minute, she was practically surrounded by Creeveys.  
  
"All right, Ginny?" the Honorary Fifth Year Photographer greeted with a flash of his camera and a bright smile. "Have a good summer? Sorry I couldn't make the Burrow. S'pose it was all brilliant, huh?" Ginny didn't miss the note of envy in his voice, no matter how hard he was trying to cover it.   
  
She shrugged noncomittally. "I can't say. All right, I guess. Where's your sister?"  
  
In truth, Ginny was quite eager to meet Magnolia (Magnolia!) Creevey. With a name like that, she couldn't be too much like her brothers - who, if Ginny was perfectly honest, were both rather tiresome. However, clan Creevey didn't tend to breed geniuses. So when Colin called the girl over, Ginny couldn't have been more surprised if he'd introduced her to the Abominable Snowman. "Maggie, this is Ginny Weasley. Ginny, this is my baby sister Magnolia Creevey."  
  
The girl delivered a sharp elbow to her brother's side and scowled fiercely at him before turning to Ginny and putting out her hand demurely. "Pleased to meet you, Ginny. I've heard so much about your family." Ginny's ears turned red at that, but the Creevey girl wasn't finished. "I've never met any full-blooded wizarding families before. Mum and Da are so hopelessly...Muggle."  
  
The woebegone emphasis on that last word, paired with the twinkle of mischief in Maggie's dark eyes told Ginny that here was something altogether different. She thought perhaps Maggie Creevey was someone worth getting to know. "Oh, I dunno about that," Ginny countered. "After all, they've sent three of you to Hogwarts. And my mum said she remembered your mum from school." Maggie and Colin both gave her an odd look at that, but said nothing.   
  
Hermione came up behind Ginny then, along with Ron and - "Harry Potter!" Maggie breathed excitedly. Ginny felt all her hope in Maggie fade at those two breathless words. Colin's Potter adoration was bad enough - still going full-throttle after four years at Hogwarts - but Dennis appeared little interested in Harry. Perhaps it was too much to hope that Maggie would be the same.  
  
"Ron, Harry, 'Mione, this is Colin's sister Maggie. Maggie, this is my brother and his friends."  
  
"What did I tell you, Mags?" Colin whispered. "The Harry Potter!"  
  
Ginny glanced at Harry, who was turning red. Ron looked as if steam would come pouring from his ears any moment. Hermione ha dalready rolled her eyes and dismissed the Creeveys en masse. It was always a point of contention between Ginny and her brothers - this friendship with the Creeveys. Now it appeared to be a problem between Ginny and her brother's friends, too. "Well," she said over-brightly. "Shall we find a spot aboard the train?"  
  
Ron snorted dismissively, and Harry made some excuse about waiting for Dean and Seamus. Ginny narrowed her eyes. "Fine," she said sharply. "Colin, Maggie? Shall we?"  
  
Colin was obviously torn between hanging on around The Great Harry Potter and the unequalled (and unexpected) honor of squiring the Fair Ginny Weasley to a private compartment onboard the Hogwarts Express. After a moment's hesitation, though, he blushed proudly and took Ginny's arm. Maggie followed, and after one last look of annoyance at her two friends, Hermione followed.  
  
The four settled comfortably into an empty compartment and for a time chatted about their respective summers. Quickly enough, however, Colin appeared to figure out he was the only boy in a cabin of girls. Ginny wasn't terribly disappointed when he said he was going to find his brother. For a short while later, Ginny's friend Ivy Martin knocked on the door and entered the girls' sanctuary.  
  
Ivy, Ginny thought, was just the girl to complete their party. Maggie was a first year, and at least part muggle (the mystery of her mother would have to be solved later). Hermione was a sixth year and one part of the Wonder Trio, as well as the cleverest witch Hogwarts had seen in ages. Ginny was a Weasley, part of a well-respected (if not well-off) wizarding family. Ivy, being part veela and part muggle and half witch, was beautiful and brilliant and as bent on mischief as Harry - perhaps more. She practically sparkled with fun, which was why Ginny liked her so well. Ivy didn't like being coddled and cosseted by the boys of Gryffindor anymore than Ginny did.   
  
"So, girls, how was your summer?" she asked as she sat down beside Hermione. Noticing Maggie, she nodded. "Sorry, mate. Didn't quite catch your name."  
  
Ginny blushed. Her mother had certainly taught her better than this! "Ivy, this is Maggie Creevey, Colin's sister. Maggie, Ivy's a Gryffindor, too. Fifth year."  
  
"Fifth year prefect," Ivy corrected, smiling.  
  
"Prefect? Really?" Ginny asked, pleased for her friend.  
  
"You?" This, incredulous, from Hermione. The three younger girls turned her way. "Not, I mean, that it makes no sense... But really, Ivy, why do you even want to be prefect? It's a lot of work, you know."  
  
"Yes, I know," insolently. "You're not the only Gryffindor able to manage it, Hermione."  
  
Ginny bit back a grin. Very few people were willing to match wits with Hermione Granger. Ivy, though, had no compunction about that. Still, Ginny didn't want to see the two of them go at it - if for no other reason than the cabin was a bit small. "Congratulations, Ivy. I'm sure Donald'll be pleased." At this, Ivy turned a bit pink.   
  
"Who's Donald?" Maggie asked.  
  
"Donald Gervase is a Ravenclaw seventh year who's ares over teakettle for Ivy," Ginny explained, while Hermione and Ivy both laughed. Donald's adoration was legendary - and a source of everlasting mirth for Gryffindor House. Sometimes, though, Ginny felt more than a little pity for the Ravenclaw boy. She, too, knew what it was like to love someone who did not return the feeling. Likely she would never quite forget the embarrassing things she did her first year. And if she did, all she'd have to do to remember was visit Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and open a horrible singing valentine her brothers had developed.  
  
"You inspired us, Gin," they told her, laughing, as the card sang about its recipient's most endearing characteristics in dreadful Seuss-like verse.  
  
Ginny was brought back to the present by a knock on the closed compartment door. It was her brother, and Harry. Speak of the devil. They opened the door.  
  
"Hey, Gin," Ron greeted. He and Harry were both apparently relieved to find Colin Creevey not among the ladies of Compartment G-11. "Mione, mind if we sit down a minute?" Not waiting for an invitation, he squeezed in on Hermione's other side. Harry, sparing a worried moment's glance for Maggie, followed suit and sat beside Ginny. She stiffened slightly, but moved over and let him sit down.  
  
In an instant, Maggie shot up. "Sorry, I - erm...Forgot something. I left it with my brothers. Yes. Excuse me, will you?" She stepped over the long legs of the older boys, and the shorter legs of Hermione and Ginny, to the door. "Ivy?" she asked, turning back to face the cabin. "Will you come with me? I wanted to ask you something."  
  
Ivy shot a knowing look at Ginny, who caught it and studiously looked away, before getting up to join the all-too-Gryffindor first year.  
  
***  
  
"Well, Ron? What is it?" Hermione asked. "There are no Creeveys around now."  
  
Ginny could practically taste the disdain in the air as Hermione spoke. It impressed the younger girl to no end. Ginny thought that if Hermione weren't so - well, ordinary-looking - she'd be part veela. There was that much power to her. At least where Ron was concerned.  
  
Ginny shook her head slightly at Ron. It was painfully obvious to everyone that he was utterly besotted by Hermione. But he would never admit it. And in truth, Hermione would never tolerate it. Hermione was miles ahead of Ron, and she would never be happy with someone who was not at least her mental equal. More the pity, that. For if Hermione would just open her eyes, she would see that Ron was not the foolish git he seemed. No one who played chess that well could be the utter, utter prat Ron seemed. And, she thought, if Ron would just stop feeling so sorry for himself, he would see that he was as worthy as anyone of Hermione.  
  
Besides that, she thought with a grimace, no one else could tolerate the Twin Tempers of Gryffindor Tower. Ginny often thought that if You-Know-Who ever caught Ron and Hermione in the middle of an argument, they'd make mincemeat of him without losing a beat. And then they'd finish their argument.  
  
The notion made her giggle.  
  
She immediately wished she hadn't. Harry leaned over and whispered in her ear, "What's so funny, Gin?" Ron saw that and glared at her with all the baleful anger of an overprotective brother. Hermione saw and stifled a giggle of her own.   
  
"Come on, Ron. Let's go find another compartment." Ginny watched, in horror, as her brother eagerly followed Hermione out of the cabin. No doubt he was hoping to get Hermione alone somewhere.   
  
In a minute, Ginny was alone. With Harry. This time her giggle was pure nervousness.  
  
"Ginny?" he asked.  
  
She turned, and looked Harry in the eye for the first time all day. She was pleased to see he was a bit red, too. Good. Best she wasn't the only uncomfortable person in the compartment. "What is it, Harry?"  
  
"Er...well, about the other day. In Diagon Alley."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Y'see...there's something I've been meaning to tell you. For some time, actually."  
  
"Really?" she asked, careful to disguise any eagerness she felt.   
  
"Yes." He took a deep breath, then caught sight of the sweet trolley passing their door. "But this isn't really the place to do it." As if to prove his point, there was a knock at the door, and Draco Malfoy and his two goons were looking through the window. He stood and turned to face his nemesis in the door.  
  
For that reason Harry did not see the shockingly vulgar gesture Ginny flung toward the Slytherins. They, however, could not miss it. The shock in Draco's face was unforgettable, and Ginny filed it away to share with Ivy later.  
  
***  
  
In a little while, Hermione had returned, sans Ron, to the compartment. Harry had disappeared. After a short fight with Malfoy (in which, of course, Harry came out the undisputed victor), he'd gone to find Ron and plan their next attack. Ginny and Hermione had some time to talk about the boys before Ivy and Maggie also returned, and then the inquisition began.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me that you were with Harry?" Ivy asked.  
  
"Oh, my brother will be crushed," Maggie said.  
  
"And Neville," Hermione couldn't help adding with a little grin.  
  
"How long have you two been seeing each other?"  
  
"Did he say something this summer?"  
  
"Have you finally come to an understanding?"  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I don't want to ever hear another word about Donald Gervase."  
  
"It's about time Harry acted like a man about this, you know. He's fancied you for ages."  
  
This last was enough for Ginny. She stared with wide eyes at the oldest girl in the compartment. "For ages, Hermione? Are you completely daft? Harry does not - is not - has never fancied me. Besides, Miss Granger, you have no place to talk. You've been leading my poor brother on for years. And I do not want to talk about Harry Potter ever again, if you don't mind."   
  
Ginny couldn't help it. She was more than a little embittered by Harry's latest not-quite-a-declaration. Of course, he had kissed her again after quickly dispatching Malfoy, and this kiss was a bit more than they'd been at the Burrow. "You're brilliant, Gin," he'd told her. "We'll talk. Soon." And then he disappeared down the aisle in search of Ron.   
  
Hermione, apparently, divined the truth right away. And Ivy wasn't far behind her. As one, the two girls asked, "He didn't say anything, did he?" And Ginny shook her head miserably.  
  
She was miserable. Embarrassed, angry - miserable. "It's all his fault, you know," she began, completely undeterred by her self-imposed ban on Potter-talk. "Before you two came to the Burrow, I was perfectly happy, 'Mione." A pause, then, ruefully, "Well, perhaps not perfectly happy. Not with the Weasley Knights of the Round Table bent on protecting my virtue from unseen attackers. But I was not pining over Harry. I've been cured of my little crush for years, I swear." Ivy nodded, attesting to the truth of that statement. Hermione raised one brow doubtfully, but wisely remained silent. "And then - he started it. He started the kissing game. We overheard you and Ron talking that Saturday morning, you know. Before we surprised you in the kitchen? Well, that's when he did it. That's when he started the game. And then when you and Ron were late coming back from Ottery St. Catchpole - I decided to get him back. And it just continued from there." She told her audience about Harry's behavior in Diagon Alley - one moment a perfect Sir Lancelot, helping her find and carry her books, discreetly stepping away so as not to hear her ask for credit in Flourish & Blotts, and holding her hand all the while. Until Ron and Hermione arrived. "I'm sure he was on the verge of saying something - it was that obvious - but all he did was suggest we go to the quidditch shop." She took a deep breath, and looked around at the three girls who comprised her audience. "Well, what do you make of that? He did the same thing before Malfoy showed up today. I hate to say it, 'Mione. I know he's your friend and all, but Harry Potter is an utter prat."  
  
Ivy shook her head. "He's not a prat, Gin."  
  
"Then a rat ba-"  
  
"Ginny!"  
  
Ginny blushed slightly. "Well, anyway. What's his excuse, then, if not genetic prat-ness?"  
  
Hermione coughed slightly, and Maggie laughed out loud. Ivy grinned. Then Hermione took the reins and explained. "He's just a boy, Ginny. Really, that's the only excuse."  
  
"It's proof that he cares, Gin, though it doesn't seem like it," Ivy continued. "That's what boys do. They're too thick, really, to use words, when actions work just as well."  
  
"That's right." Ginny wondered idly if this was tag-team counseling as Hermione took over the narrative. "Trust me, I know Harry as well as anyone. He's mad for you, like I said before. He's just a bit shy, I think."  
  
Ginny snorted. Shy was the last word she'd use to describe Harry. He was the captain of the House quidditch team, had been the youngest seeker in a century, was famous before he even knew he was a wizard, hadoutwitted Snape at every turn, had been a Tri-Wizard champion, knew half the Ministry by name - Harry, shy? Hardly.  
  
"He is," Hermione insisted. "Remember his crush on Cho Chang?" Wonderful, Ginny thought. I had hoped to be reminded of Harry's first love. "He couldn't manage to say two words to her practically all year! And besides, you're Ron's sister. That probably makes him more nervous than anything. Imagine having your six brothers gang up on you." Ginny raised her brows. She didn't have to imagine it when she could experience it firsthand. Hermione realized her misstep and blushed a bit. "Well, I mean, imagine being on the other side of that."  
  
"Really," Ivy concurred. "They can be quite intimidating, your brothers. I remember when Percy was still here. For all he's a great git, with four Weasleys watching over you, Gin, nobody was going to harm one hair on your head. Well, except for Tom Riddle. But he hardly counts, does he?"  
  
Hermione rushed to cover Ivy's non sequitur. "The point is, Ginny, Harry can't help it. He's a boy, and a sixteen-year-old one at that. You know they mature more slowly than girls. In the wizarding world, I've read, it's even worse. You cannot give up on him now, you know. Because no one else'd have him. The Boy Who Lived, and all. Rather intimidating."  
  
"Oh, I dunno about that," Ivy disputed mischeviously.  
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "You are not helping, Miss Martin. I hope you counsel others better than this, or you're going to be stripped of your prefect badge before September's out!" She shook her head and muttered, "Honestly."  
  
Ginny giggled. "It's alright, 'Mione. I get your point. Even if Harry's acting like a great git, it's because he fancies me, right? And I'm supposed to sit back and let nature take its course, right?" All three girls were nodding in response to Ginny's questions. "And play the damsel in distress once again, right? Well," she squared her shoulders determinedly. "Sod that! If Harry wants to tell me how he really feels, so be it. But I'm not waiting around like some wilting flower, panting for male adoration. Maybe I should just go tell him, once and for all, hmm?"  
  
And, to the mingled horror and admiration of the other three girls, Ginny swept out of the cabin and down the length of the train in search of Harry.  
  
  
  
A/N: Bubby - I hope this chapter cleared up your disgust of Harry a little. Or at least explained things. 


	9. The Perfect Girl

Finally! We're almost done with this little ficlet. Thanks for all your patience, and the swell reviews! This definitely isn't the best story I've ever written, but I hope you like it.  
  
Growing Up Weasley  
  
Chapter 9. The Perfect Girl  
  
  
  
Ginny stormed through the train, getting angrier and angrier with each step she took. Of course it was okay for Harry to kiss her and then run away. Of course it was alright for him to flirt with her and then avoid her. Of course it was expected that she wait for him. Of course, of course, of course. The words pulsed through her mind to the beat of her steps through each car. It wasn't so much that she was furious with Harry - though he had led her on ever since he arrived at the Burrow and couldn't keep his eyes off her - or even that she blamed her brothers for their interference (though she was sure that without Ron's glowering and Percy's pontificating, she and Harry would have worked things out on their own just fine). It was the fact that everyone - everyone! - expected her to sit back and wait on Harry. Wait for him to finally get his act together and say whatever was on his mind. Wait for him to make the first move. (Hadn't she done that already? After all, he'd kissed her, not the other way around.)  
  
Wait. Be careful. Don't. Possibly the four most irritating words in the English language, Ginny thought. Well, she wasn't the kind of girl to rest on her laurels while the boys marched forth, banners waving. Just as she intended to play beater for Gryffindor, even though it was traditionally a boy's position, so she intended to act, instead of wait, even though that was traditionally the boy's job. For which reason she was currently marching through the train, almost daring anyone to step in her way, peering into each compartment to see which one held Harry and Ron.  
  
So where were they?  
  
"I tell you, Seamus. She's brilliant."  
  
Just a moment there, Ginny thought. What was this? She slowed down, and listened.   
  
"Can't say why I never noticed it before. Sure, Parvati's gorgeous -"  
  
Oh. Well. All Ginny's righteous anger faded. If Harry (she recognized his voice, even though the curtains were drawn) was thinking about Parvati Patil, then there was no hope for Ginny.  
  
"- but Ginny - well...no one looks like her. Did you know she has seven freckles on her nose?"  
  
In the corridor, Ginny began to blush.  
  
"You don't say." Seamus Finnigan, a sixth-year like Harry, sounded like he could barely contain his amusement. But Harry didn't appear to notice.  
  
"Yeah. And when she smiles, she kind of scrunches up her nose a bit - cutest thing you ever saw."  
  
Now Ginny was burning bright red.   
  
"And she's funny. And she's smart."  
  
"And she's stacked," Seamus added for fun.  
  
Ginny's eyes went wide at that, and she reached for the door handle.   
  
"Well...yeah," Harry agreed slowly. Ginny let go the handle. "But that's not even it. Not really. D'you know, she's going to play Quidditch for Gryffindor this year? She's a brilliant beater, you know. Better than Fred and George, if we can find her a match. I've never met a girl like her."  
  
Seamus chuckled. Chuckled! Ginny glowered from her perch outside the door. "Sounds like the perfect girl, mate. Now all you have to do is tell Ron you've got the hots for his wee sister."  
  
Ginny blanched. Ron. When given the choice between friendship with Ron and a date with Ginny, who would Harry choose? Of course it would be Ron! They'd been best friends for six years. So it didn't matter, really, that Harry's words positively warmed her heart. It didn't matter that he really did like her. It didn't even matter that all her anger had pretty well faded away. If Harry told Ron he fancied her, it would be the end of things, even before they really began.  
  
"Ron. You don't think he'd kill me outright, do you Seamus?" Both boys laughed, though Ginny could detect a note of worry in their laughter.  
  
"Ah, no. Me mam and da say love conquers all." He laughed, dismissing his parents' sentimentality. "Go on, Harry. Ron's your best mate. Besides, everyone knows Ginny's hot. If you don't go for it, sure somebody else will."  
  
"Thanks, Seamus," Harry said drolly. "That's really reassuring."  
  
"Cheers, mate."   
  
Ginny shook her head. Seamus was about as serious as Fred and George. She could guess just how relieved Harry felt. Not that she was too terribly concerned. If Harry was too afraid of her brother to be honest with her, then he was not worth her while.   
  
At least, that was what she told herself.  
  
In the corridor, outside the compartment where Harry sat talking about her and his feelings for her, Ginny was beginning to lose her fire. It was all well and good to be irritated with Harry when he couldn't make up his mind, but overhearing his little conversation with Seamus...well... It softened her heart. A little. After all, if he could say it to Seamus Finnigan, why couldn't he say it to her?  
  
Something to think about. She turned to leave the corridor, to go and find someplace to sit and think for the rest of the journey to Hogwarts.  
  
"Ginny?"  
  
Oh, God. She was cursed! That had to be it. Doomed never to get a break. "Hi, Ron," she greeted, in a too-loud voice. The least she could do, she thought with a mental shrug, was warn Harry.  
  
Her brother's hands were full of snacks from the sweets cart - so, it seemed, was his mouth. He chewed and swallowed a large piece of some candy and asked, "Were you looking for me?"  
  
She took too long in answering. Before she could think up a good excuse for having hunted through the train and ended up here, his ears began to turn red, and his eyes hardened. "You weren't looking for Harry, were you?" he half-whispered. It was all she could do to keep from running in the opposite direction.  
  
"No, of course not," she snapped. For suddenly, she was anxious to keep her feelings for Harry under wraps. "I was - Hermione asked me to come find you." She hadn't, of course, but - anything to get her brother away before she made a complete fool of herself.  
  
Apparently she'd pushed the right button. Ron's eyes lit up. "'Mione was looking for me?" Ginny didn't say anything. "Listen, Gin. Don't bother Harry. He doesn't need you hanging all over him. He's got bigger things to worry about than trying not to hurt your feelings."  
  
"Yes, I know," she answered, irritated. Though she didn't. To be perfectly honest, she'd never given a thought to what else might be on Harry's mind. And that gave her pause. She looked at Ron with new eyes. For most of her life, she'd thought of him as irritatingly overprotective. Toward her. She had never thought that he was equally as overprotective toward others. She would never have expected him to be protective of Harry. Her tone softened. "Don't worry, Ron. I don't want to get Harry into any sort of trouble. Not like with Tom Riddle's journal. Honestly."  
  
He nodded. "Right, well - listen, Harry and Seamus sent me to get some sweets. Give these to them, will you?" he asked, shoving packets of crisps and Bertie Bott's Every-Flavor Beans into her hands. "Where's Hermione?"  
  
Ginny bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling at her obviously besotted brother. "Back in my compartment, of course. Where we were before you and Harry so rudely interrupted before."  
  
Just then, the boys' compartment door slid open. Harry poked his head out and began to ask, "Someone say my -" As soon as he saw Ginny, he stopped. He stared. And, as if he suddenly remembered her penchant for eavesdropping, he flushed bright red. "...Hi, Gin."  
  
Ron's head swiveled as he looked between his embarrassed best friend and his blushing baby sister. Then back at Harry again. And at Ginny, who could feel his gaze but stared studiously at her shoes. Then he shrugged. "Ginny's got the sweets you wanted. I'll see you Harry. 'Mione's looking for me."  
  
At that, Ginny sneaked a glance at Harry. His eyes met hers, and they shared a moment of deepest amusement. Ron didn't even try to hide his affection for Hermione. "Right. See you later, Ron."  
  
Ron didn't go, though. He stared pointedly at Ginny, until with a start, she realized she had the sweets in her hands still. "Oh. Right. Here, Harry." She shoved the treats at him. Ron nodded once, and left. Apparently, Ginny thought, her sense of humor getting the better of her, he'd done his duty by her. She bit her lip to keep from laughing aloud, and watched him almost race for the door that connected this car to the next one.  
  
Then Harry cleared his throat. "Chocolate frog, Gin?" he offered, holding a small package out toward her.  
  
She smiled.  
  
"Come sit with us. I was just talking - Seamus and I were - y'see, I..." he trailed off, uncertain again.   
  
She raised her eyebrows.  
  
Seamus, from his vantage point inside the compartment, could barely keep from laughing aloud. Ginny knew he was highly entertained by this all - Seamus could always find a joke in situations - and felt the pink of her ears extend to her cheeks. She took her eyes from Harry's just long enough to shoot Seamus a death glare. As she expected, it worked. He cleared his throat. "Right. Well, I, for one, wouldn't mind a bit of pumpkin juice with my pasties. You, Harry? Ginny?"  
  
She narrowed her eyes. The famous Weasley temper had by no means passed fair Ginny by, and everyone in Gryffidor Tower knew it. Seamus, recognizing the signs that she was about to lose her patience with him, hustled out of the compartment without another moment's hesitation. Ginny stepped in, and closed the door behind her.  
  
"So, Harry. What did you want to talk about?" 


	10. Knights and Maidens and Happily Ever Aft...

Here it is, Chapter the Last. I was thoroughly shocked by all the positive responses from chapter nine. Thanks! My faith in my own writing skills has been revived. You are a fabulous group of readers. Anyway, here's the end of Ginny's little tale. Enjoy!  
  
Growing Up Weasley  
  
Chapter 10. Knights and Maidens and Happily Ever After  
  
  
Ginny waited. It was Harry's turn to talk, and she would wait until he did. They were stuck on the Express until they got close to Hogwarts, with no place to go. She could wait.  
  
The compartment door banged open, and Seamus stuck his head in. Ginny glared daggers at him, and he had the good sense to look abashed. Still, he didn't leave. "Sorry. We're almost there. I reckon we should change into our robes." Ginny was still glaring. "My robes are in here," he explained.   
  
Ginny shot a look at Harry, promising that they'd finish this later, then rolled her eyes at Seamus. With a heavy sigh, she got up and left the compartment. As the door closed, she heard Seamus say something about saving Harry's hide. It didn't take a genius to figure out what he meant. Fuming, Ginny stomped away.   
  
Ivy caught her passing through a nearly-empty car. "Oh! I was just coming to find you and tell you we're almost there. If you want to put your robes on, I mean."  
  
Ginny bit back her more violent emotions and smiled at her friend. "I was just coming back to do that." The two girls headed back to their compartment together, talking about the newest member of their circle. "You must tell me, Ivy. Do you think Maggie'll be in Gryffindor, too? She's loads of fun - a thousand times more than Colin or Dennis."  
  
Ivy snickered and shushed her friend. "They could hear you!"  
  
But Ginny didn't care. "Well, really. Isn't it about time the boys of Gryffindor got a good dose of honesty? I don't think it would harm them a bit." She scrunched up her nose in thought. "Might do them some good," she mused softly.  
  
Ivy - who Ginny sometimes thought was an Animagus; she had ears like a bat - caught that. "Oh, Ginny. You didn't get to speak with Harry, did you?"  
  
The last thing Ginny wanted was her friend's pity. "Seamus was in a hurry to change before we got to Hogwarts." She smiled brightly. "Don't worry, though. Harry and I will talk. I'm sure of it." She couldn't help but add, "And since this is the first year he's managed to get to Hogwarts without incident, I expect we'll talk sooner or later."  
  
Ivy chuckled with her friend. Harry Potter's start-of-school exploits were already legendary. Something had happened to him every year, and neither girl could remember if he'd ever seen a Sorting Ceremony since his own. He certainly hadn't been at theirs. Ivy glanced out the train window as they entered their car, and gasped. "Gin?" She turned. "I think you spoke too soon." Ivy pointed at the reddish-orange blurs streaking through the Scottish countryside alongside the train.  
  
Ginny's eyes grew large, and then narrowed. "Oh, for the love of -" She opted not to finish her expletive, instead throwing up her arms and stalking toward her compartment in high dudgeon. Ivy followed, but Ginny did not give voice to the thoughts racing through her mind. Thoughts like, What on earth were her idiot brothers up to now? That was a purely rhetorical question, of course. She knew.   
  
Once, when she was very young, Bill and Charlie had teased her about fending off all the wizards who would chase after their baby sister someday. At the time, Ginny had found it all quite funny. "We'll follow him to school and haunt his steps," Charlie had promised. "We'll chase him down and demand to know if his intentions are honorable," Bill concurred. "We'll set dragons on him," Charlie said, revealing his lifelong obsession with the beasts. "Or lay a dozen hexes on him and see if he can get out of it," Bill added gleefully, calling on his already extensive knowledge of curses and curse-breaking from his work for Gringott's.  
  
When she started at Hogwarts, Fred and George had gotten into the act, plotting a hundred tricks to play on any suitor Ginny ever had. By then, though, Ginny had ceased to see the humor in their extensive plans. And while she'd been grateful for the protection of four older brothers when a Slytherin tried to hit on her in second year, she did not appreciate the four Weasleys flying along on their brooms beside the Express. She just knew they were going to ambush Harry as soon as he stepped one foot off the train.   
  
The worst of it was, there was nothing she could do. If she went back and tried to warn him now, Ron would probably join in on their brothers' side, against Harry, and unquestionably against Ginny. Nothing irritated her so much as the interference of six big brothers in her love life. She couldn't imagine what they would do at the Burrow if she started making eyes at Draco Malfoy.  
  
Not that she ever would, of course. She wasn't terribly interested in the pale, blond, supercilious prince of Slytherin. And while she admitted to Ivy that he was good-looking, she couldn't understand what Ivy saw in him. Of course, Ivy always wanted what was out of her reach. That was why she and Ginny were such good friends.  
  
And with that jumble of thoughts in her mind, Ginny burst into Compartment G-11 and flung herself on the bench with a heavy sigh of disgust. She crossed her arms and glanced out the window only to be met with the sight of Fred smiling and waving before he pressed on to catch up with her brothers. "ARGH!!!" she shouted, startling Maggie and Hermione and Ivy afresh.  
  
"Something you'd like to share with the rest of the class, Gin?" Hermione asked with a twitch of a grin on her face. Ivy and Maggie giggled at the caricature of anger Ginny presented to her friends. Before Ginny could explain everything, though, Hermione went on. "Best change into your robes, girls. We'll arrive in about ten minutes."  
  
Ginny closed her eyes and took a deep, cleansing breath. Then she stood up and reached for her case on the rack above Maggie's head. As she changed into her plain Hogwarts uniform and black robes with the Gryffindor crest, she muttered, "This is absolutely the last straw. I'm off men forever."   
  
The others were wise enough to keep their comments to themselves.  
  
In short order, the girls were changed, and a minute later the train stopped. Students poured off, laughing, talking, happy to be back at what was still the safest place in Britain with Voldemort on the loose. Ginny, too, was happy to be back. At least at Hogwarts she wasn't the only girl in the house. She waved good-bye to Hermione and Ivy, who were headed off to the rapid transit up to the castle - reserved especially for prefects. Then she gave Maggie Creevey a hug and promised to see her in the Great Hall. "Don't worry about the sorting," she whispered, remembering the horror stories she'd been told. "It's nothing." She shared a "Hullo" with Hagrid and noticed he was wearing that horrible hairy suit he'd worn to impress Madame Maxime from Beauxbatons a couple of years ago. She deduced that Hagrid's courtship had been successful. Then she headed for the carriages that would take the rest of the students up to the castle.  
  
"Gin!" It was Harry. She steeled her nerves and walked toward him. They headed toward one of the few remaining carriages side by side, in awkward silence, until Harry finally broke it. "See Hagrid?" he asked. Ginny risked a sideways glance. Hagrid was a favorite of all the Gryffindors, but he was a particular friend of Harry. How was she to answer that seemingly inconsequential question?  
  
But when she saw Harry's raised eyebrows, and the way he seemed to be forcing back a grin, she giggled. "Looks like Madame Maxime will be a new professor this year." They both burst out laughing - not at the expense of their enormous friend's romance, but at the sight of him in that hideous suit. "Harry, you have to tell him to get a new suit!"  
  
"Where? I don't know if you've noticed, Ginny," he teased amiably, "but I hardly shop with giants."  
  
She glanced over at him again. "Oh, I dunno," she said softly. Indeed, Harry looked far less malnourished than he had in previous years. Apparently, her mum's cooking had finally made a difference. Not to mention Harry was filling out quite nicely on his own. He was several inches taller than she was, finally. And his arms looked as if they could wrap right around her and hold her to him. And he had a broad chest, just right for curling up against. And...  
  
Ginny cut off that train of thought before she started to blush. Still, the easy camaraderie between them was lost once more. Harry cleared his throat. "Ginny, I -"  
  
"Harry! Ginny! What a surprise!"  
  
Harry looked startled - and not a little nervous - at the sudden appearance of four Weasleys in the closed carriage he'd been about to hand Ginny into. Ginny, however, was not surprised. After all, her brothers were bent on utterly ruining her life. She was almost resigned to it. Almost.  
  
"Really, George?" she challenged. "A surprise, you say?" Her dark and usually warm eyes were snapping with anger. Harry saw this and backed off. Her brothers, too, fell back into their seats as Ginny climbed into the carriage. "Funny, I'm not surprised." She sat back and spread her arms out as though offering herself up as a sacrifice. "Well? Let's have it. Go ahead." She turned her head and nodded for Harry to join them before he got left behind at the station. "Come on, Harry. The sooner we get this over with, the better. Bill? You're the oldest. Maybe you should get the ball rolling." The carriage began rolling toward the castle.  
  
It didn't matter that Bill was ages older than Ginny. He wasn't stupid. Foolhardy, perhaps. But not stupid. He and all his brothers (excepting Percy, whose world seemed to end at the tip of his nose) knew that tone of voice. Hadn't they grown up hearing it from their mother before she let loose with a tirade? Only Ginny's style was a bit more vengeful. And Bill knew - they all knew - that Ginny had enough on them to get them all but disowned. Cross the baby of the Weasley family, and it would come back to haunt you at the worst of times - like in front of new girlfriends, or at Christmas dinner with the grandparents. Bill had made that mistake once before. So had Charlie. And the twins did it all the time. Ron had experienced Ginny's startling vengeance when she started kissing Harry. Only, Bill learned from his mistakes. He turned his attention to Harry. "Harry, man, we all know you. And it used to be we trusted you. But this is our baby sister we're talking about. So I must ask. What are your intentions?"  
  
At that, Ginny coughed, sounding suspiciously amused. Honestly. If it wasn't so bloody irritating, the scene would be high comedy! What was Bill thinking, asking Harry his intentions? Was he expecting Harry to put his financial prospects down in writing? Perhaps announce his betrothal to Ginny as though she were a fair maiden of yore? Pledge his sword and all his men to the sacred duty of upholding the Weasley banner in exchange for Ginny's hand? Could her brothers possibly be any more courtly? Next thing she knew, one of them was going to lay down a cloak for her to walk over.  
  
Harry glanced across the carriage and tried to catch her eye. Failing that in the dark interior, he faced Bill honestly. Ginny watched him covertly, thinking her brothers could learn a bit about real chivalry from Harry. If anything, he was too shy. That was certainly not a trait any of the Weasleys shared. "Well...I -" he stopped, looking Bill squarely in the eye. Ginny sat up a little, wondering what Harry would say next. "I intended to talk with Ginny first, Bill." His piercing green eyes met four pairs of Weasley eyes before turning to Ginny once more. This time she met his eye and held the gaze. "I can't stop thinking about you, Gin. Half of why I couldn't wait to get to the Burrow this summer was to see you again. And then there you were, and you're -" he choked a bit on the word (no doubt trying to speak past the aeons of male chauvanism that dictated a man must never tell a woman just how much he really does care for her) - "you're gorgeous. You are, Ginny. And you're the best damned Beater I've ever seen." Fred and George made noises of disbelief, but neither Harry nor Ginny paid them any attention. In fact, it was as though they were in the carriage alone. In a part of her mind, Ginny couldn't believe this conversation was finally happening - and under such circumstances! - but most of her mind was focused on Harry. "And I already know you're as smart as Hermione, at least, brilliant at potions. And you're great for a joke. You managed to keep my mind off Voldemort for the past two weeks. And you're so strong, and sweet, and courageous, and gentle, and - well, you're brilliant, Gin. I can't believe it took me so long to realize it. I -" he spared a glance for their audience, and Ginny thought she detected a bit of a shrug as Harry focused once more on her. "I'm in love with you, Ginny."  
  
Her eyes fluttered shut. For the first time in her life, she wished she wasn't such a strong woman, that she really was from a different age. She swooned. "Harry," she breathed.  
  
Charlie took half a second to register the scene before him, and then he cleared his throat. "Right. Well, we're - we'll just be going now. You might owl Mum, Gin. And," this to Harry, with a grin that stole over his boyish face and mirrored the ones his brothers wore, "you might want to break it to Ron gently, mate."  
  
The carriage slowed, then stopped. Bill, Charlie, Fred and George departed in a flurry of broomsticks and tasteless jokes. Harry climbed out of the carriage, then put out his hand for Ginny. She took it and descended from the carriage on a cloud of pure emotion. Once she was safely out of the carriage, Harry did not let go her hand. Instead they stood there, alone for a short moment in front of the grand entrance to Hogwarts Castle, gazing at each other with the wonder of true love revealed.   
  
"I meant it, you know," Harry said. "I do love you, Ginny."  
  
She felt the blush that started with her ears and worked its way across all her features in an instant. But she would not be embarrassed. She smiled up at the green-eyed young hero of the wizarding world, felt the strength of his hand warm around hers, and allowed a lifetime of emotions to well up inside her. "And I love you," she agreed. Then she joked, "Not like you couldn't guess it from the Valentines." He smiled. "You know," she went on, "'Eyes as green as a fresh-pickled toad'?" He chuckled a bit, and so did she.  
  
And then, after years of dreams and two weeks of stolen practice, it was perfectly natural. The sun was setting in the background as they leaned toward each other, tilting their heads ever so slightly, and sealed their relationship for all time with the perfect kiss.  
  
  
Fin  
  
  
  
  
A/N: There you go! I hope you enjoyed this fanfic. I enjoyed writing it, anyway. And now, I fear, I am out of ideas for my next fic here. Actually, I'm writing some fanfiction on another site, but it's not Harry Potter. So. If you have any suggestions or ideas for what I should write here next, please feel free to share. You can e-mail me or leave your ideas in your review. Otherwise...well, we'll just have to wait and see, shall we? 


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